


Beloved, Beloved

by tealmoon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Alternate Universe - Underfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Ambiguous Relationship, Anxiety, Collars, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic Bondage, Misgendering, Non-Sexual Kink, On the surface, Petplay, Safeword Use, Self-Harm, Sensory Overload, Sexual Harassment, edgeberry, mentions of honeymustard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:30:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealmoon/pseuds/tealmoon
Summary: When the Surface became too much to bear, they had each other. (AKA, a pair of dorks explore their kinks together.)





	1. Chapter 1

The Surface was great! It had so many people to meet, and endless things to see and try. From the very first minute he had seen the sun, he had known it would be an adventure finally worthy of the Magnificent Sans! He loved his new job, being able to see the stars, getting to know humanity one human at a time.

But it was overwhelming, in the same way. The monster population had strained the limits of the Underground a little bit, but it had never been crowded, not in the way that the Surface was. A lot of monsters lived at the outskirts of the established human city, and on some days, heading further into the city felt like he was being bombarded on all senses. The sun was so bright, and there was so much noise from so many people and machines, and a million things to look at. On a good day, he loved it, but sometimes it made him want to crawl into bed and refuse to come back out.

On days like that, he looked to Edge.

Their friendship had been one of necessity, at the beginning. Red and Papy got on like a house on fire, even in the early days when they were all adjusting to the idea of alternate universes. They didn’t _mean_ to drift off from their brothers, but their awkward courting left Sans and Edge adrift, trying to navigate the Surface alone after a lifetime of constant, almost clingy brotherly affection. And the same went for his Alphys and Edge’s Undyne, who were both madly in love with their respective girlfriends and didn’t have as much time for their skeleton besties. Sans tried not to whine or mope about it, but...sometimes it was lonely. So they hung out occasionally, and occasionally became frequently as years passed, until Sans could confidently say that Edge was one of his best friends, and the feeling seemed mutual.

They balanced each other out really well. Edge viewed Sans as an equal and a fellow adult. He loved Alphys and Papy, of course he did, but it still hurt his feelings when they treated him like he was a naive child that couldn’t take a critique. Edge would spar or cook or make puzzles with him, and he was willing to tell Sans if he was doing something wrong. At the beginning, he had been a little harsh over it, but he didn’t say things just to be mean, even if they sounded that way.

And for Edge, Sans was a welcome reprieve from violence and aggression. The monsters from his universe were making leaps and bounds in being kinder, but, he had once confided to Sans, it was comforting to be around someone who didn’t have a single EXP. Edge had softness in him that very few people were allowed to see, and Sans was proud to be one of them.

They had tumbled into their game on accident, with a few years of friendship already under their belts. They had been drunk, _very drunk,_ Sans sprawled half on top of Edge with a mountain of blankets wrapped around them. Neither of them had work the next day, so they kept going long into the night, marathoning a few of Edge’s favorite Mettaton movies. They were still conscious when the credits rolled on the third movie, and neither one wanted to get up to put on a fourth, so they mostly just cuddled. In between one drink and the next, Sans decided it was a splendid idea to show Edge the cool stuff he had learned the other week about puzzle bondage.

Despite being smashed, he would have stopped if Edge seemed uncomfortable, but he looked interested, slurring ideas on how to make unique hints for combination locks. And _then_ they started discussing into magic-specific bondage, and Sans was soon jumping from link to link on his phone, showing Edge all the fun ideas humans had made up for saucy games.

His finger had probably slipped when choosing between articles, and suddenly they weren’t looking at photos of rope bondage anymore. Instead, it was humans leading each other on leashes, or wearing odd costumes, or wearing almost nothing at all, just decorations that made them resemble animals.

Both of them went still, staring at the screen, before Sans clicked back, giggling awkwardly and trying to put it out of his mind.

He might have forgotten about the incident, if it wasn’t for the anime marathon a week later, held by both sets of Alphys and Undyne. Long after Frisk and Chara had left, taken home by their respective Boss Monster parents, the more risque anime came on, and he had not been braced for the amount of catboys and catgirls on screen, in increasingly lewd situations. And he could see Edge’s blush in the corner of his vision, trying in vain to hide his face in his scarf while not looking away.

Of course, he had to find out what was going on with his friend! He initially rationalized it as Edge just being curious about pet ownership. Maybe he _really_ wanted something cute and small to take care of, but worried it didn’t fit his tough, cool persona!

...Sans couldn’t believe that for very long, from the way Edge blushed and rambled the times Sans dragged him to the nearby animal shelter to show him all the cute puppies and kitties. His hands had been shaking so badly he could barely pet the cats, so red-faced that a baffled employee asked if skeletons could have pet allergies.

They were pretty honest with each other about intimate things, and he eventually managed to drag it out of Edge, but it took some work. He could talk about bondage or pain for ages, but he seemed to find this more intimidating to tell Sans: he didn’t want to have a kitty, he wanted to _be_ one.

Sans didn’t find it as shocking as Edge clearly expected, jolting when he crawled over to Edge for a hug, flopping down onto his ribs. It was just roleplay, right? Like DnD, only a little more...private. “Tell me what you want to do, then. I might not agree to it, but I’ll hear you out.” He had been worried that Edge would want the sexy cat stuff they had seen online—he adored Edge, but he wasn’t ready for sex with him, or with anyone. But he wanted more mundane things: cuddling, playing, being taken care of.

The tendency to keep pets had been an unexpected difference between humanity and monsterkind. In the Underground, there were very few non-sentient creatures; almost everything down there was a _person._ There were some cultural similarities between Monster dogs and Surface dogs, so collars and leashes weren’t too foreign, but the rest of it took some getting used to. They needed a few weeks of research and lobbing ideas back and forth before they started.

They made up a little back-story to go with it: Edgy was a rescue kitty, from who knew what kind of terrible environment, and Sans had adopted him after fostering him for a while, determined to get him used to people again and not realizing he would grow to love the cat that much. For the first few months, things were a little aggressive as a result, and Sans had earned a number of scratches and little bites for moving too quickly or getting too close. Edge always held back from using his claws and fangs the way he would against a true threat, of course. It was just a kitty acting out, not a true battle, so it didn’t even hurt his HP. Of course, he had to be careful to keep them covered when green magic didn’t erase the marks, but that was what his gloves were for!

After a few games, it started to settle out, as Edge portrayed a cat adjusting to a new home. He would sit still to be pet, slowly allowing more physical contact, and they branched out with new props. Cat toys, which he ignored at first, as a cat from his background wouldn’t know what they were and would have to be coaxed into playing. Food and treats (but not actual pet food, which monsters couldn’t digest) from a pet bowl, and after a lot of buildup, taken from Sans’s hand itself. Sans had worried that Edge would find some of it too degrading, but he calmly vetoed whatever he didn’t like, rather than breaking the game off entirely.

It was a lot more fun that he had anticipated, and he started looking forward to kitty time just as much as he would for cooking, building puzzles, or going out for drinks with Edge. And he wasn’t just playing the game for Edge’s benefit; he liked being the owner, liked how close and safe it was.

The house was quiet when he finally got home, and he couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief. Their Surface house had locks on the bedrooms, and Papy knew to give him his space these days, especially after the handcuff incident, but Edge didn’t like to play unless they had adequate privacy. A good quarter of his safe word use came from being startled over hearing Sans’s brother, or worse, his own downstairs. It didn’t matter that they were behind a locked door, or that neither Papy or Red would teleport into his room unless there was an emergency of unimaginable magnitude— Edge liked it best when they had solitude, and if Edge was happy, so was Sans. And for what they had planned tonight, an empty house was ideal.

Papyrus was probably on a date with Red. Were they seeing a movie? Going out to eat? Papyrus would stay the night at Red’s as well, so Sans could have the entire night with Edge, undisturbed. He consciously took the stairs slowly, though he wanted to bound up them, two at a time. He had rushed through all of his errands for the day and still hadn’t returned soon enough for his liking, already excited from the texts Edge had sent him.

(He wondered what Red and Papy assumed about their brothers’ relationship. They had made quite a few lewd jokes about how close they were, but if they actually knew what was going on, he and Edge would have been buried under an endless pile of cat puns. Their true secret was clearly safe.)

Retrieving the key from around his neck, he unlocked the door. It was only ever locked if Edge was there, and that sent a jolt of excitement through him, fumbling to get it open faster. Immediately he locked it again, before turning to the room, beaming.

Edge had been dozing, waiting for him. He had dragged out the dog bed Sans had bought for him, which was usually stored out of sight, in the back of his closet. It was enormous, meant for larger breeds of dogs, but Edge still had to curl up and contort himself enough to fit comfortably. He didn’t seem to mind, and it made him look even more kittenish. His eyelights brightened as he looked up at Sans, unfolding himself and stretching his spine elegantly.

“Hiya, sweetie,” Sans cooed, taking off his gloves and reaching a hand out to Edgy. He crawled over, winding around his legs. “Did you have a good day? I missed you!” He pushed his skull into Sans’s palm, and Sans gave the required pettings, gently scratching at the crown of his head. Edge didn’t talk during their games unless he wanted to change its direction or use a safe word. Pet kitties couldn’t talk, after all, and they typically planned things out well in advance, so he didn’t need to speak up too often.

Whenever they played, he always seemed so happy and calm; Sans could sense it, even when the scene had him being cranky or skittish. He didn’t hold himself as stiffly, and his frequent scowl vanished. Although he wasn’t a Guard anymore, now that they lived on the Surface, his wardrobe still skewed towards ‘armor’, spikes and tough fabric that could protect him from a hypothetical attack from humans. (And Sans _knew_ he had so much clothing he wanted to wear in public and didn’t, because it looked weak, or flimsy, or wouldn’t hold up in a fight.) Humanity had been generally accepting towards monsterkind, but a lifetime of paranoia and violence couldn’t be abandoned so easily.

But he shed all of that when he was with Sans, wearing nothing heavy, nothing spiky, nothing dark-colored or made of leather. Kitties were meant to be soft, so he was, in plain, worn t-shirts or plush sweaters, and whatever loose pants that would be easy to crawl in, his feet and hands bare. In the blog posts and articles he had read, trying to research it, humans usually played these games naked, but the idea hadn’t appealed to Edge, so they ignored it.

Sans sat down on his bed to pull off his boots, and Edgy climbed up beside him, nudging his head against Sans’s shoulder. He settled for yanking them off with one hand, while applying the other to Edgy’s skull and upper spine. It was hard for a skeleton to make any noise resembling a purr, but he managed with a deep hum that sounded just as cute.

“I know you get lonely when I’m gone,” Sans said, clicking his teeth against the crown of his head, in between where his ‘kitty ears’ would be. (They had tried one of those cat ear headbands for a session, but Edge had found it uncomfortable and couldn’t divorce it from memories of Undyne and Alphys wearing them during anime night. Similarly, Sans couldn’t figure out a setup for a tail that wouldn’t be unpleasant to wear or ridiculous-looking, so they disregarded that as well.)

“But you’re such a good kitty, being patient and waiting for me!” He reached over to his nightstand and fished something out, clenched in his fist as if Edge didn’t already know what it was. Giving him one last stroke along his head, Sans turned on the laser pointer and aimed across the room.

That was a common game for them, especially when Edge had nervous energy to burn and Sans was too tired to play with him physically. Work and errands all day had drained him more than he’d like to admit; even the Magnificent Sans had his limits! Slipping off the bed, Edgy eased his way across the room, all of his focus set on the red dot on the wall. He paused, wriggling a little, and slapped at the wall.

Sans flicked the dot away, and Edgy flung himself across the room, chasing it as Sans moved it around the room. That was another reason why they needed the house to themselves: even as a light skeleton without his usual heavy padding, Edge made a lot of noise when he really got into it. It was best that they didn’t have to think up an explanation.

It lasted a few minutes before Edgy got one of his clawed fingers stuck in the thick carpet and began hissing and trying to pull away. He could have freed himself without much effort, obviously, but it was Sans’s duty to help him, as his owner! He clicked off the laser pointer and set it aside, coming over to kneel beside him. “You defeated the dreaded Red Dot of Doom!” Sans chirped, carefully taking his hand and unhooking it from the carpet. “Who’s my fierce little hunter? Yes you are!” Well, not _little_ — he nearly bowled Sans over as he leaned against him— but certainly fierce.

The laser pointer had worn him out, and he settled across Sans’s lap, letting him run his hand down the length of his spine. It effectively pinned Sans to the floor, but that was what magic was for. Reaching out with a stream of blue, he nudged his closet door open and dragged out the box waiting inside, setting it down beside him.

“I got you a present, sweetie,” Sans said, making sure to keep petting as he opened the box. “Try to keep an open mind, okay?”

Together, it had taken them a week of searching and comparing options before they finally found something they both liked. Sans held out the collar, and Edgy dipped his skull closer, as if to sniff at it. It was Sans’s signature shade of blue, made of soft leather and padded on the inside. Initially, he had expected Edge to want something, well... _edgy_ , maybe with spikes or studs, but he had been swiftly corrected. “If I am to wear a collar, I would prefer one that would make me think of you. It is the owner’s decision, after all.”

As a kitty, he seemed much more skeptical, looking between Sans and the collar, head tilted curiously.

“You don’t have to put it on right now, okay? We’ll work up to it, so you can get used to it.” He held it closer, and Edgy gave a little lick, the tip of his red tongue peeking out of his mouth. Sans giggled and set it down, where he gave it a few nudges with one hand, before ignoring it. They would return to it in a future game, though they hadn’t decided what direction to take yet. Maybe he’d whine but not fight when Sans put the collar on, earning a few treats and a tummy rub. Maybe he’d flail and screech, until Sans had to pin him down with blue magic so that he could get close enough without being clawed.

Either way would be fun, for both of them.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, silly,” Sans said fondly after a few minutes of stroking his spine, shoving at him a little bit. “Or at least nap on the bed with me.” He reluctantly untangled from Sans long enough for him to hop back onto the bed and settle down, kneading at the blankets. Edgy was a total pillow hog, but he was warm and still making that humming purr of his. A nap or a cuddle was a pretty typical way for them to end things, and sleeping was the easiest way to get Edge back to himself. The kitty mindset would fade by itself, once they were done playing, but it was slower if he was conscious. He remembered a few times when Red had nearly worked himself into a panic, convinced that Edge was being so quiet because he was sick, or in some immense emotional pain, rather than remembering how to be a person who was supposed to talk.

Edgy had gone still beside Sans, curled around him, and he was starting to drift off himself. It was a few hours too early for bedtime, but they could have a nap before making dinner together...

The sun was setting when he woke. He squirmed around to see the alarm clock without dislodging Edge’s arm around him. They had been asleep for about two hours, and it was definitely dinner time. With a soft groan, Edge began to sit up, rubbing at his face.

“How are you feeling? Are you thirsty?” Rather than leaving Edge alone right after a game, even for the few minutes it’d take to get him a drink, he had started keeping bottled water in his room. He hopped up to get a bottle. It was a little warm, but Edge drank greedily anyway.

Edge stretched his long arms over his head, once he had finished the water. “I may have overexerted myself slightly, but nothing that food won’t fix. You?”

“I’m doing great!” It was sweet that Edge still checked in with him on light days, when all they had done was play and cuddle, instead of acting out misbehavior and punishment. Those were the difficult games which made Sans feel guilty and off balance, though he didn’t do anything more than scold and use the spray-bottle. Those parts were still enjoyable and worth playing out, they just needed more hugs and quiet time afterward.

Edge got up to put the dog bed away, while Sans retrieved the laser pointer and collar. The latter felt a little too scandalous to store in his nightstand, so he returned it to the box, wrapping back up in its tissue paper for a little extra protection.

For the first few months, Edge had always changed back into his regular clothes after they were done, so it sent a little thrill through Sans as he headed downstairs in his kitty clothes, Sans a few steps behind. It was a pleasant in-between phase, and it stretched out the game a little longer without being an emotional strain. He kept getting the urge to reach out, to touch Edge’s sleeve or the back of his shirt. Luckily they both had aprons, to protect his nice clothes from the chaotic mess that dinner usually implied.

Dinner’s choice was up to him, since it was his kitchen. He launched into teaching Edge how to make enchiladas, after a quick snack to keep Edge going while they cooked. The Surface had so many new recipes for them to try together that they could tackle a new food every day and not come close to learning them all. Sometimes that made him feel dizzy and overwhelmed with so many options, but that night, he just felt excited to see how the enchiladas would turn out.

He was about halfway through making the sauce, when he glanced over and saw Edge was grating the cheese with a lot less vigor than usual. Typically his enthusiasm sent bits of cheese flying everywhere, but his movements were much slower. “Is something wrong?”

Edge’s skull jolted up. A faint blush spread across his cheekbones, which was adorable, really. “Ah, um. I was merely considering the terms of our game. And the collar.”

“Oh! Are we going too fast?”

“No, it’s not that.” His blush got a little darker, and without his scarf, Sans could see it spreading down his vertebrae. “I was thinking that, well. Collaring a pet is to identify them if they’re lost or wandering, correct?”

“If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay not to wear it—”

“N-no!” He coughed, trying to regain his composure. “I am not against the collar. I was trying to suggest... that I might desire to wear it in situations outside of our formal arrangement.”

“What.” Sans quickly set aside the saucepan so it wouldn’t burn while he tried to figure out where this sudden change of heart was coming from.

“There’s less need for a collar if a pet stays inside for its whole life, but I am, I suppose, somewhat of an outdoor cat, and I should continue to wear it outside.”

“But everyone would see it,” Sans said softly. “You’re okay with that?”

“It wouldn’t necessarily have to be visible. With my scarf and a high-necked shirt, I could cover it adequately. I don’t think it would be a permanent accessory, but on some occasions, I...would like the reminder of my owner and home.” Sans was sure he was starting to blush too, imagining Edge out in the world, wearing _his_ collar. Regardless of whether it was hidden under his clothing, that was a huge step from only wearing it in a locked room. “If that makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”

Sans stepped closer, taking the cheese grater away from Edge so he could hold his hands. He had bits of cheddar on his fingers, but that didn’t matter. “If you want to wear it more often and it’d make you happy, I’m okay with it.” He paused, and smirked up at Edge, tossing in a wink for good measure. “But in that case, maybe we should get a tag for it as well. Something with my name on it, in case you get lost. It’s the safe thing to do!”

Edge freed one of his hands from Sans’s loose grip so he could cover his face, which was far more red than white, now. “One thing at a time, please.” But when Sans started to giggle, he joined in, a hesitant chuckle that soon grew to fill the entire kitchen.

(The enchiladas were delicious.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of my NaNoWriMo efforts, but I wanted to post this early, while it was still No-Shame November. I've been massively stressed lately, so it was really relaxing to work on. Maybe so relaxing that I'll write a second part sometime, so if there's anything you'd think would be really cute, suggest it and I'll consider it. (While keeping in mind that I'm not going to change that 'non-sexual kink' tag.) 
> 
> Show of hands, did anyone assume it would be Blue as the pet and Edge as the owner?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a heavier tone and also more basic d/s than petplay, but decided to add it anyway. If you're just here for a cute time, this probably won't do the job as well as chapter one.

‘Grillby’s’ had expanded itself quite a lot, now that the Grillby he knew and the one from Blue’s universe had decided it was easier working together than trying to compete. Their new place still reeked of grease, but the pink Grillby had expanded their repertoire of liquors quite a lot and was trying to introduce menu changes. At first Papyrus had tried some of his alcoholic milkshakes, but recently he had started drinking red wine. He had heard that it was _the_ drink for elegant, sophisticated people, and they had a wide selection for him to try. Purple-Grillby sneered at him for it, but he couldn’t complain, now that he was finally getting Papyrus’s money.

It was a nice night for having a drink with everyone, the heat of the day still lingering. Across the room, his brother was leaning against Stretch, laughing at some ridiculous joke, no doubt. Undyne was in the corner, happier than he had ever seen her in the Underground, never far from Alphys. She had been taking shots, and he wasn’t surprised when they started impromptu karaoke by the jukebox, Undyne belting out lyrics (half of them wrong), while Alphys mumbled along. At least she didn’t start too many fights these days, so she probably wouldn’t be thrown out.

He couldn’t forgive himself for letting his guard down, after the fact. He should have known better! Had the Surface dulled his mind so completely?! Everything may have felt safe and happy, but there were still threats, still danger.

After years of living on the Surface, monsters had branched out, and Grillby’s was not the only monster bar around, nor was Muffet’s the only café. However, they were the biggest, the most popular, and with that came certain downfalls. Popular locations for monsters often drew in humans, who weren’t content with merely gawking at monsters in the street. No, they wanted to be tourists.

If their money was good, and they didn’t cause a ruckus, neither Grillby would expel them, though their flames would crackle more than usual, and they would set down drinks with more force. Conversations might get quieter the moment a human walked in, groups of monsters spreading their limbs at the booths or dumping their jackets on the only free chair, so that the human couldn’t sit down.

But, he’d had a lot of wine already and the night felt perfect, all his friends around him and Blue across the table. He hadn’t noticed the human approaching him, while he was poking at his phone—he had a friend request, so obviously it required his attention! He had so many these days! Blue had gone up to the bar to refill his glass, and the human must have deemed it an open opportunity.

It took hours to fully understand why the human had done what he had. The man had been in there for a while, long enough that everyone had dismissed him as harmless. He strode right up to Papyrus, and no one seemed to notice—not his brother, laughing with his lover, not Undyne, who was screaming out the chorus to a song he’d heard on the radio. Somehow the human bypassed the numerous scars and Papyrus’s proud stance, never slouching regardless of how plastered he was. All he noticed was the clothing.

Papyrus had thought it looked very nice when he picked it out that evening. The dress might have been a little short, skimming his knees, but the fabric was thick enough to keep out the chill, and the flower print looked very intimidating, thorny and blood-red. He was only just starting to become comfortable wearing his dresses out, so he kept his leather jacket on (and the dress was sleeveless, so that protected his shoulders), and his standard boots. All in all, he had thought he painted a dashing picture.

All the inebriated human saw was a female monster drinking alone, a prime target.

“Hey, darling. Baby. I’m talking to you!” He hadn’t realized the human was addressing him, and he looked up from his phone. Surely this person was just speaking loudly to someone else? But no, he was standing beside him. How strange, for a human to use pet names for someone they didn’t know!

“Hello, human. Is there something I can help you with?” Maybe he wanted to be Facebook friends as well, after catching a glimpse of Papyrus’s phone. It was important to build human-monster relations, even now that they had been on the Surface for years. He dragged a chair over to sit beside Papyrus, and he thought it was pretty courteous to do, rather than taking Blue’s empty seat.

“I’ve seen you skeletons around Ebott, but I’ve never seen a lady one before. What’s the difference?” His gaze raked up and down Papyrus’s body.

He was used to humans being curious about skeleton monsters, and he couldn’t help the little pleased thrill it sent through him at the thought of getting to educate a new person. It was enough to distract him from whatever the human had meant by ‘lady skeletons’. “Well, it can be hard to differentiate, but typically a female skeleton’s pelvis is far more open than a male’s, and the sciatic notch is wider! It’s probably easier just to ask each skeleton what their gender is, however—”

“So, all in the pelvis, huh? Maybe you should give me a demonstration. A little hands-on lesson, so I can see the difference?” The human’s hand landed on his upper leg, heavy, unpleasantly damp, and Papyrus froze. He started to inch up the hem of his dress...

Blue slapped his hand down on the tabletop, his other hand clenching Papyrus’s wine glass so tightly it was a wonder it hadn’t broken already. Had he seen that brief touch? He grinned up at the human, his teeth tight against each other and his eyelights completely dark. The human leaned back in his chair, hand jerking away from Papyrus’s femur. “Can I help you?!”

The shock of Blue’s arrival didn’t last long, and the human snickered. “This your boyfriend? C’mon, you can do better than that—”

“It doesn’t look like Papyrus wants to talk to you anymore, I think you need to leave! ” Blue called out cheerfully, loud enough that Lesser Dog, one of the bouncers, looked up from where he was leaning against the bar. More than a few people were glancing over, as Blue’s voice cut through the dim. He worried Undyne might notice and intervene on his behalf (she didn’t need an assault charge, she was so happy these days, it would be his fault!), but her corner was still blaring music.

The human made a movement towards Blue, maybe to strike, maybe just a gesture, but Papyrus couldn’t waste the second it would take to figure it out. A red-tinted bone appeared in his hand, and he brandished it at the human. (Don’t attack, don’t attack, _Frisk would be so disappointed—_ ) The bone wasn’t sharpened the way he used to summon them back in the Underground, but if he got a solid hit, he could fracture something in that human’s wrist. He had learned that humans had bones under their meat and knew just the right spot for maximum damage...

Lesser Dog hurried over to their table, yipping in disapproval at the human. He was unmoved by the human’s protest that ‘she’ had gotten physical, and he was just trying to be friendly, honest! Lesser Dog put one paw on the human’s shoulder and started to shove him towards the door. More people were starting to stare at them as Blue peeled his fingers off the bone he still clutched, letting it dissipate. Sans had finally noticed, and he stood up, ready to storm over before Papyrus gestured for him to sit back down: _I’m fine, don’t come over, it’s okay._ He had no illusions that Sans would follow that human out and smash his face in, if he knew about the groping.

Now that his hand was free, Blue took it and drew him away from the table. Papyrus was stunned enough to follow for the first few steps, clutching his wine glass, before his thoughts returned. The smaller skeleton led him over to the bathroom, and he intended to pull back. What was he doing? They were single-stall, mostly included for the rare human visitor, because monsters didn’t need them. Why—?

Blue pulled him inside, fast enough that Papyrus couldn’t glance around, looking for anyone who had seen. Blue locked the door behind them.

At the very least, it was extremely clean. He had a variety of opinions on different versions of Grillby, but at least their combined establishment passed muster in terms of cleanliness. He barely flinched as Blue gently pushed him back against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Blue stood on his tiptoes, and then, annoyed with the still insurmountable height difference, climbed up onto the closest sink, which held under his negligible weight. His tiny hands, not gloved for once, gently pushed Papyrus’s scarf to the side, to see what he must have known was there from the beginning.

Of course he had worn the collar. He did that frequently these days, and if it wasn’t around his neck, it was at the top of his inventory. He had made it into an amulet of its own—carved symbols on the inside with his claws, so tiny he could barely feel them, cleaned it to his specifications, whispered protective mantras to it.

“I didn’t think he was going to touch you. I was chatting with Grillby and saw him go over, but I thought he just wanted to talk. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” And, softer, almost to himself, stroking Papyrus’s jaw: “That awful human isn’t going to touch you again. I won’t allow it.”

That voice and touch did something to him, making his Soul pulse in his ribcage. Slowly, setting his wine glass down on the paper towel dispenser, Papyrus knelt down on the tile floor, with a brief glance to make sure it was clean enough. He wasn’t going to go to hands and knees, which would signal his change to being a cat. Despite the locked door, that was still too public, too vulnerable. It was the only thing he could think of that would signal that he wanted Blue to be his master right now, not his best friend. Blue made a noise of confusion. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He hopped down from the sink, and reached out to Papyrus, cupping his skull in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Papyrus whispered. “I nearly attacked that human. I am open to whatever punishments you think might be necessary.” He didn’t know if Blue carried that spray bottle with him, or if that was remotely appropriate, but that was the only thing that came to mind. Almost hurting a human was leagues above knocking things off a table.

“But...you _didn’t_ hurt him. If anything, I should be praising you. I know you were close, but you held back!”

“But I—”

“No, Edge.” He wasn’t used to hearing this voice out of Blue, firmer than how he usually spoke with his cat. He stroked at the crown of his skull, and Papyrus fought down the urge to ‘purr’. “I’m not going to punish you harshly, especially when we haven’t talked about that sort of thing before. But if you really feel that strongly about it, let’s do this instead.” He plucked up Papyrus’s drink, took a sip, and poured the rest down the drain. Turning on the cold tap, he rinsed the glass out and filled it with water.

For a moment, he couldn’t fathom what Blue was doing, until he tapped at his teeth, silently asking for him to open up. Papyrus tilted his head up, letting Blue pour the water into his mouth, making sure not to accidentally choke him with too much. “Your punishment is no more alcohol for tonight! And maybe taking you home early? I know it’s not that late, but you’re kind of drunk, and I can tell you’re still upset.”

Papyrus nodded, keeping eye contact as Blue gave him another sip. “If that’s what you think is best, I’m alright with it,” he murmured.

“If you’re really okay with me making decisions for you, then I guess that’s what we’re going to do!” Blue set down the glass, taking his hands and pulling him back to his feet. “I don’t have any treats on me to give you, but let’s go back out and I’ll buy you something to eat, wouldn’t that be nice? You definitely deserve it.”

They didn’t stay long after that. Blue bought him a little plate of fries, which he nibbled halfheartedly with the water Blue pushed on him, starting to feel those glasses of wine coming back on him. He only managed a few (far too greasy, being drunk didn’t improve the flavor) and pushed the rest away. Blue had been watching him intently the whole time, apparently for any sign that he was ready to leave.

He waved goodbye to Undyne and Sans as Blue lightly pushed him towards the door. Blue had finished a few beers himself, not planning to get drunk but enough that he hadn’t driven there in that little convertible he loved so dearly. Luckily, they all lived in walking distance of Grillby’s, and it wasn’t far enough into the night to worry too much about human attackers. (But did that human stick around to follow him? Were they safe?) “Aren’t you going to tell your brother?” Papyrus asked, as Blue swung the door open for him.

“I sent him a text, a few minutes ago. He’s planning on staying over with Red tonight. I can walk you home, or...” Blue stopped to pose in the light of a streetlamp. “...We could have a supercool friends sleepover!”

He did a pose of his own, though it wasn't his best. “A sleepover it is! And we shall make it a fantastic one!” He didn’t want to deal with the sounds of his brother drunkenly screwing Stretch down the hall while he tried to sleep, and...he didn’t want to part from Blue.

It wasn’t going to be their most spirited sleepover, Papyrus realized a few minutes later once they had arrived, flopping onto Blue’s couch. He didn’t want to move. Blue hovered for a bit, offering to cook something for them, until Papyrus pulled him down by the wrist, half sprawled over Papyrus himself. “I am...very tired,” Papyrus managed, surprised at himself. A year ago, he wouldn’t have been able to admit it so easily. “Let’s rest for a minute.”

Blue nodded. “It really did get to you, didn’t it,” he said, much quieter than his usual volume. “How about you head upstairs, instead of falling asleep on this lumpy couch? I’ll be up in a minute.”

That was a bit unfamiliar, in its own way. Usually they would drag Blue’s mattress and their spare air mattress downstairs, setting them up in front of the TV for a more authentic sleepover experience. Did Blue intend for them to share his bed? They had never done so outside of a pet scene before. When he opened the door, he almost expected it to be different in some way to fit the circumstances, but it was just Blue’s room, same as always.

Blue soon came in, carrying water glasses. “You don’t want to be hungover tomorrow, do you?” Blue scolded, pushing it into his hand when he didn’t take it immediately. Papyrus didn’t have a stomach, but he was starting to feel like he was going to slosh with each step, from how much water Blue had given him. “You’ll thank yourself and me later, so drink. Did you want me to get some of Papy’s clothes for you to sleep in? I promise they’ll be clean!”

He was just about to groan that Stretch’s clothing was probably filthy, but he had been in the middle of a sip, so he just nodded awkwardly. “That would be fine, yes.” Better than sleeping in his nice dress or naked, anyway.

Blue paused, one hand on the doorknob and the other twisting in his scarf. “You know, you seem kind of freaked out still. If you don’t want to share the bed, that’s fine! I can take the couch. I’m not going to push you.”

“No! No, it’s perfectly acceptable. I...want to sleep with you very much. Not in a lascivious way, mind you! I just want to stay beside you right now.”

“We’re probably going to need to talk about this in the morning, to see if this changes our game,” Blue said and, bizarrely, winked? “It sure does sound like you consider me your master whether you’re a kitty or not!” And he slipped out the door.

Did he think that way? Papyrus could admit that the Surface had cooled him off, enough that the idea of submissiveness didn’t immediately horrify him. Of course, acting like that for just anyone was unacceptable, but if it was Blue...Blue, who had been open to their games without ever mocking him... Blue, who knew Papyrus better than his brother by now...

Maybe he would enjoy following Blue’s orders on occasion.

Blue soon came back with a pair of shorts and a tank top which seemed clean, though he had to sniff to make sure. Stretch was about an inch taller than him if Papyrus didn’t have his heels, the bastard, but they’d be fine to sleep in. He sat on the bed to unlace his boots while Blue started to strip down and get into his pajamas, unconcerned that Papyrus could see his bare bones, or that Blue could see his, once he removed his scarf and pulled the dress over his head. He made sure to fold both neatly before putting Stretch’s clothes on.

The shirt was soft against his ribs, and Blue was softer still when he came over for a hug, with all that fleece and worn cotton he wore to sleep. When he pulled away to turn off the light, Papyrus almost didn’t want to let go. But he returned soon enough, pulling the sheets back so they could climb in. Blue’s bed was big enough for the both of them to fit with room to spare, but Blue still pressed against him, his head against Papyrus’s sternum.

He wondered if such a small skeleton had ever felt lonely, laying on such a wide mattress by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Further chapters will probably continue to focus on petplay, but after these events, they do start doing mild d/s play on occasion. When Edge is stressed, Blue sometimes will give him little orders and it helps him calm down. Usually not anything intense. 
> 
> (Dare I start adding more nonsexual kinks?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that, chronologically, this occurs sometime between chapter 1 and 2.

Not every day on the Surface was a good day.

They had been texting during Edge’s break, Edge being reticent, Sans trying to pull answers out of him in that brief amount of time before he returned to work. _Something_ had happened, and Sans had to needle and pry before Edge would be honest about why he was being so terse: a human at his workplace. A human yelling cruel, anti-monster things at the employees until the security guard (thankfully another human that could have weathered an attack, if it came to that), forced them out. And even then, they had been screaming those same horrible things on the sidewalk outside...

That had been a few hours ago, and he was still worried. Had Edge calmed down? Hopefully he could put it aside enough to work through the remainder of his day without it wearing down on him, but Sans knew his friend could hold grudges. Monsters were well-integrated by now, and these incidents were rare, but it hurt every time. Edge and the other monsters from his universe had loftier dreams of the Surface, and it hurt them the most whenever their new home showed its flaws.

Sans wanted to do something nice for Edge to get his mind off things, but he was undecided on what to do. Going out wouldn’t be the best; he had the feeling Edge wanted to avoid humans as much as possible. He offered to drive Edge home, worrying that he might not be in the best mindset to be behind the wheel, but he texted back that Red had come to get him. That was the next best option, probably.

...They usually planned things out days in advance, but maybe they needed to play spontaneously for once? Sans invited him over; if he didn’t want to be a kitty, they could still watch movies or bake or something else that would cheer him up. Red soon delivered Edge (with the same concerned look that Sans probably wore). Edge really didn’t look well, his head turning this way and that, scanning the house, though Sans had promised him they would be alone. His eyelights were flickering, hands clenching on nothing as he walked in. It had been a while since he had looked like this.

“Edge, let me know if you’re not in the mood, but...maybe we could have a little scene? Only if you want...?”

Sans could barely get the offer out before Edge was nodding, practically frantic. Maybe he already had been hoping for it. Maybe he had been thinking about it all day, in hopeful anticipation, and that was why he asked for the collar.

They had done little things with it before, the kind of stuff research recommended for actual cats: introducing it, letting the collar pick up scents, but they hadn’t chosen what would happen in the main event. Was he accidentally pressuring Edge into it? “Are you sure? We haven’t decided—”

“I’ll safeword if it goes badly, I swear to you, but I... Please, Blue. I need this right now. Let’s use the collar.” Already the dark cloud over him was lifting a little bit, and Sans felt a little less hesitant. Clearly this would help Edge!

By now, they had done this enough that Edge had a change of clothing saved in the bottom of Sans’s dresser, though that had always been just a precaution before; he usually had some in his inventory already. Sans followed him up upstairs, retrieving the collar as Edge changed out of his work uniform, folding it up with shaking hands before he turned to face Sans.

Despite what Edge had said, Sans started them out slow, petting him until the tension went out of his spine and he slumped over into Sans’s lap. It took a few minutes, but he started to purr, quieter than usual.

It didn’t seem like the right time for playing, so Sans didn’t bother with the laser pointer or the crinkle balls or any of the fun little toys he had picked up. (Online mostly, since that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in a physical pet store. ‘Oh, you have a cat? Tell me about him.’) Just long, slow strokes down his back, until his bones started to go stiff from sitting with Edgy draped over him. He wasn’t as calm and loose as he would be on a good day, but he was slowly improving.

“Hey, sweetie.” For some reason, he couldn’t help but speak softly. “Let’s try the collar today, alright? Just for a little while, to test the fit.” He reached up to where it was waiting on his bedspread, holding it out to Edgy. “Remember this?”

He sniffed at it, but turned his head away, burying his face against Sans’s leg. Was he about to struggle? Edgy might have been in the mood to thrash, and Sans knew he’d be guilty over it later, if he clawed too hard. He gently tilted Edgy’s head up to get a better angle, and turned his Soul blue.

They had talked a lot about that, in the past. Of course, that was an inappropriate thing to do to a _real_ cat, but Edge had agreed that Sans could use it occasionally if he was acting out too much. As far as they both knew, it was uniquely skeletal magic, so Edge didn’t have any bad experiences with it from monster opponents. He and Red had practiced it on each other as children, but never in a scary way. Sans used it to ease Edgy up off his lap and down to the carpet, prone on his back.

It made him feel safe, he claimed. The pressure weighing him down, keeping him still, a potentially dangerous magic used to keep him safe... The way Edge had described it was so intimate and beautiful. He whined a bit as Sans eased the collar around his vertebrae, but that seemed to be in character and not true distress. “Shhhh,” Sans said, checking the fit and making sure it wasn’t choking him. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Just a little longer!”

His hand weakly came up to scratch at it, and Sans added another layer of blue magic, until his whole body was pressed to the floor and he could barely twitch. Again, a real cat probably would have freaked out, but he sighed and went completely limp, fingers clutching at the carpet instead. Sans wondered if he might fall asleep just like that.

It looked really good on him, unexpectedly so (that relaxation, the blue glow through his clothing), and Sans blushed. He laid down beside him, petting at his ribs through his soft sweater. “See, that’s not so bad, right? You’re handling this really well. You can have a treat in a few minutes for being so good for me.” He got the feeling that Edge wanted the blue magic to last a bit longer, so he pulled it back in degrees, slowly giving back his range of movement.

Edgy rolled over onto his stomach, getting back to his hands and knees. He started rubbing his head and neck against whatever was closest, trying to adjust to the collar: the bed, the nightstand, Blue’s shoulder. Sans made sure to keep at least one hand on him for petting, while he reached for the treat bag he had retrieved.

Making sure not to catch his fingers on Edgy’s sharpened teeth, he fed him little bits of beef jerky, his grin widening when Edgy started to purr. “See, you’re getting used to it already! Good boy.” He giggled when Edgy licked at his fingers, looking for more. “This is the last one, you greedy little kitty.” As promised, once he put the treat bag away (in a closed drawer so Edgy couldn’t get at it), he unbuckled the collar, rubbing along Edgy’s vertebrae once it was removed and safely put away. “Next time we can try it for a little longer, and more and more until you’re used to it. Soon you won’t even notice when you’re wearing it all the time!”

The collar seemed to have cheered him up enough for a little bit of playing, idly batting at a bell toy but making sure he didn’t stray out of petting distance. It was nice and uncomplicated, a good way to wind down.

Edgy seemed to catch the sound much earlier than Sans, his skull snapping up, staring at the bedroom door. At his sudden stiff posture, Sans looked over and started to hear it as well: the front door opening, a scuff of feet on the floor. Was Papy home? Why wasn’t he out at the café, like he usually was after work??

Sans bolted to his feet. Edgy seemed too panicked to move, let alone use the safeword, so Sans did it for him. He took Edge’s skull between his hands, making sure he registered the words. “Shhh, _stoplight_. I’ll go see why he’s home, just stay. I won’t tell him you’re here.”

With a final stroke to his cheekbone, Sans stepped out, hearing the sound of Edge locking the door behind him. Sans didn’t like leaving him alone, but the lights were on, so his brother would know he was here. It was probably better to be proactive and handle this situation as fast as possible, rather than making Edge wait for Papy to leave. If Papy stayed too long, he might undo all the good work they had done.

“Brother? Is that you?” He made sure to scan the living room as he walked in, but there was nothing there to indicate Edge’s presence; his clothes and work bag were all upstairs. There was no reason for Papy to suspect Edge had come over, especially with how quiet he was being. “You’re home early! What’s the occasion?” _Please leave, I love you brother, but now is not the time..._

“Oh, hey.” He looked up from where he had sprawled on the couch. “Wanted to come home and clean up. Me and Red are going to the observatory tonight.”

Maybe then he wouldn’t linger too much? It was kind of rude to hope for, but it would make things a lot easier. “Are you finally taking my advice on dating, brother? Finally cleaning up your act?”

“Don’t get your hopes too much. Just a shower and something other than my uniform. Not gonna wear one of your cool dating outfits.”

“What a shame, that you’re rejecting my brilliant fashion knowledge! I don’t know how poor Red can stand to look at you whenever you’re on dates!”

“You’ve wounded me, bro. My own flesh and blood.”

“We don’t have flesh _or_ blood, and the point stands! You should put more effort into your dating, or I’ll never get a brother-in-law out of Red.” Was it his imagination, or did Papy look a little flushed at that? Surely he had thought about it himself.

Maybe to escape Sans’s well-crafted advice, Papy got to his feet with a groan and started to slouch towards the stairs. Thankfully! Sans usually liked the banter, but he didn’t have the time for it right now. He felt horrible leaving Edgy alone for even a few minutes, considering the mindset he was in. He herded Papy towards the bathroom, sighing heavily once the shower hissed on. Hopefully he wouldn’t stay much longer after that?

Cautiously, once he was sure his brother was actually in the shower, rather than daydreaming and waiting for the water to heat up, he unlocked the door and slipped back into his bedroom. “Edge? Are you still here?” Sans asked, in a whisper. Had he jumped out the window? It was one of his signature moves; a two-story height wasn’t enough to phase him. Or maybe in the closet?

The closet was empty, nothing in it large enough for him to be hiding behind. “Edge?” He heard a tiny, distressed whine, nearly lost under the sound of his own footsteps. He knelt down and peered under his bed, seeing the bright red of Edge’s eyelights peering back at him. There was some space underneath the bed, for storage he hadn’t used, but he didn’t think it was enough for Edge to fit. And yet he had managed to crawl under there, his front pressed against the carpet, claws firmly dug in.

Poor thing! “Shh, just a little longer, and he’ll go. I promise!” It was surprising he hadn’t come out of the mindset altogether, like he usually did at an interruption. He really had needed this, didn’t he? There was just barely enough room that Sans could have crawled in himself, but instead, he sat down on the floor beside him, hand on the carpet, in reach if Edge wanted to touch him.

He couldn’t stay like that for too long. The shower soon turned off, and they could track Papy’s shuffling steps from the bathroom to his room, drawers opening and closing. As he walked downstairs, Sans got up. It’d be out of character not to see his brother off, and maybe he could shoo Papy out a little faster.

He looked pretty nice, considering how low his standards usually were. A clean, plain shirt, dark pants rather than his usual khakis, and he had thankfully traded the socks and sandals for sneakers. All in all, not a very impressive dating outfit (no glitter, no neon), but it was cute that Red could inspire him to make a little effort.

Sans tried to be subtle, but he longed to shove his brother out of the house. Papy was being insufferable, lingering at the front door to check his texts. (And then to wander back upstairs because he forgot his keys in his shorts, and _then_ to grab a taco from the fridge, and to answer more texts...) Apparently Sans’s frustration was obvious. “Bro, uh, what’s up? Did you wanna tell me something before I go?”

“Hmm? I could regale you with stories of my day, but you have a date to get to!” He shifted uncomfortably under his brother’s stare. Usually Papyrus wasn’t that perceptive—probably didn’t want to make the mental effort. But this time, he seemed a lot more aware than usual, glancing around the living room. Sans had to restrain himself from looking as well, as if they actually had missed some sign of Edge’s presence. That would look so suspicious!

If Papy had eyebrows, they probably would have been arched as high as they could go. “You really sure there’s nothing?” Slowly, deliberately, he tilted his skull up towards Sans’s room.

“Of course not! There’s nothing to say!!” He could feel little beads of sweat starting to form on his skull, as he tried to keep his smile fixed in place. Could Papyrus tell he was lying just from that alone?

But his luck held. Papy didn’t seem to care enough to pursue the thought, so he just shrugged and walked out. Sans resisted the urge to rush back to his room; what if Papy was expecting that and wanted to catch him at it?! He waited a bit, pacing around the living room, before deciding that his brother probably wouldn’t bother.

Edgy was still crammed under the bed when Sans returned, but he clearly perked up when he heard the car starting up and Papy finally heading out. (At least Papyrus had taken that bit of dating advice to heart; driving was far more romantic than teleporting.) He didn’t crawl out immediately, but when Sans inched his hand underneath, he gave it a careful nudge in response, rather than biting or scratching. After a few minutes, he squirmed out, trying to make it seem more dignified than it was, and returned to Sans’s lap.

“See, that wasn’t so bad. It’s okay, he’s gone now. Everything’s okay now...” He kept it up for a while, a stream of soothing repetitive nonsense. He needed it just as much as Edgy, it felt like. It was a silly thing, being so freaked out about something so trivial, but what _would_ happen if they were caught? Would Edge want to stop completely out of embarrassment, regardless of how much they both loved it?

“Your brother,” Edge finally said in a weary, rough voice, “is an utter nuisance.” He straightened up so that he was sitting beside Sans, still leaning against his shoulder.

“Isn’t that how all brothers are?”

Edge scoffed, giving him an exaggerated insulted look. “My brother at his worst is not remotely as bothersome, I’ll have you know.” Each word seemed to take immense effort, but Sans wasn’t going to tell him to be quiet. “Did he know I was here?”

“He was suspicious, I think, but he didn’t say it outright. Maybe he thought we were canoodling or something.” Sans couldn’t help his blush, though it was better than Papy assumed that, rather than knowing what they actually got up to.

“Ughh,” Edge mumbled, butting his head against Sans’s shoulder. “You owe me extra pets for this next time. If he tells Red—and we know he will—I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Poor baby, you’ll get all the pets you want, and a catnip mouse too, if you want,” Sans offered with a giggle. “I’m sure it’s fine. Can’t the big scary Edge handle a little teasing?”

He scoffed, grabbing at the bedframe to pull himself up. “Nonsense! I, the Great and Malicious Papyrus, can weather such ridiculous comments—” There really was no better time for him to fall over, his legs unable to support himself. Maybe his bones were still out of sorts from crawling around under the bed? Luckily he landed on the bed, no worse for wear, and Sans muffled his laughter with his hand. Poor Edge was practically pouting!

“Aww. Do you need to rest for a while? I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“If you need help cooking...” Edge tried to prop himself up, only to fall back on the bed, now pouting in earnest and trying to suppress it.

“No, no! You just rest, and I’ll be up in a bit, okay?” He worried for a second that Edge might insist and he’d have to do something drastic (maybe he could sneak the handcuffs out of his nightstand?), but he obediently settled down into bed with only a little bit of grumbling.

Sans meant to hurry. But the leftover tacos in the fridge would be too messy to eat in bed, so then he had to _make_ something, and just a sandwich didn’t seem like enough, and he wanted something really nice that would cheer Edge up... It took about a half hour before he finally returned with a bowl of shrimp linguine in each hand. It wasn’t lasagna, but he hoped it would still appeal to Edge’s tastes.

Edge had done more than rest in that half an hour, it turned out. In the time it had taken Sans to cook dinner, he had squirmed under the blankets and fell into a deep sleep, the kind he expected out of his brother, not his best friend. His fanged mouth was slightly ajar and he made tiny, whispering sleep noises.

He had to fumble to put the food down before he dropped it. It was just so _cute_! He looked so soft and peaceful that Sans was tempted to take a photo. His phone was halfway out of his pocket before he realized that maybe it was a little creepy to photograph a sleeping person without their permission. He would have to settle for a memory, gazing fondly down at him as he set Edge’s food on the nightstand. Carefully, to keep from disturbing him, Sans took a seat at the end of the bed and started to eat.

Maybe the amazing smell was what roused Edge, about ten minutes later. “Did you have a nice nap?”

Things weren’t perfect, after that. There was still an unhappy tinge to Edge as they ate and washed the dishes together, Edge recovered enough that he insisted on helping, but it was a lot better than he had been a few hours ago. Sans didn’t feel like he’d have to worry about sending Edge home in that sort of state.

It was only when they settled down on the couch for a night of TV that Sans realized Edge had brought the collar down with him, idly turning it in his hands as he watched and occasionally shouted at the screen. (Mettaton’s game shows got pretty intense, Sans couldn’t blame him.) Had he gotten it back out when Sans had been out of the room? He didn’t mind, it was just surprising that Edge liked it that much.

Since Edge hadn’t driven over himself and Red was occupied (probably smooching Papy at that very moment, one would hope), Sans took Edge back home. As much as he wanted them to stay up all night together, Edge needed a good night’s sleep more. As he buckled himself in, Sans turned to him. “Did you want to take the collar with you?” He was okay with it; of course it would be safe in Edge’s possession.

“Could you...” He went quiet for a minute, turning the collar around and around in an endless circle. “Could you put it back on for me?”

The night was quiet and still, and there was no one to see them while he was still parked in the garage, no one at all to see him unravel Edge’s scarf to gently fasten the collar around his beautiful, scarred vertebrae. Edge caught up his hand, bringing it up to his fangs in a brief kiss. “I want to hold onto this feeling a little while longer,” Edge said, reluctant to let him go. “I’ll wear it tonight and hopefully think of you in my dreams.”

Who could say no to something like _that_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at these dorks. 
> 
> (Swap Pap definitely thinks they're boning, rather than what's actually happening.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some nice fluff and a POV change, this time with Red.

It was pretty nice to get everyone together for one solid shindig. Took a lot of schedule shuffling, but somehow everyone had managed to free up their Saturday for one enormous group trip to the beach. Those humans probably hadn’t expected two vans pulling up full of monsters and a pair of little human kids.

At least that meant they had their own space, with most of the humans backing off. There was plenty of room for them to spread out beach towels and umbrellas. It was still mid-morning and the flow of beach-goers was a trickle, so they got a good spot next to one of the open volleyball nets. (He saw Captain Undyne eyeing it and wondered how many games she could manage before it accidentally ended up torn down in a fit of athletic rage.)

Frisk was already sprinting out to the water, Chara trailing behind as their respective goat parents tried unsuccessfully to call them back. No wonder they were excited; Frisk had been stoked about the idea for weeks.

“You gonna swim too?” Stretch asked, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his sandals. They had all worn their swimsuits under their clothing, rather than having to use public changing rooms more than absolutely necessary, and Sans certainly didn’t mind the view of his pristine ribs and iliac crests. On the other hand, _he_ was keeping his t-shirt on, no matter what anyone said. No human was getting an eyeful of his scarred rib cage. Stretch didn’t seem like he was up for a dive; Sans was surprised he had bothered to set up his towel before getting horizontal.

“Eh, maybe later. It’s probably cold.” Twin shrieks from Chara and Frisk neatly confirmed it, as they jumped in and then immediately flailed their way back to dry sand. “Not that I _can_ swim.” They never got a chance to learn. Aside from aquatic monsters, no one swam much back home. Usually it was a very brief introduction with water before they were drowned or mauled.

“Well, shout if you’re drowning, I’ll come save you.” Skeletons couldn’t actually drown without lungs, but a set of bones was too heavy to float. Didn’t sound like the greatest time, being trapped at the bottom and unable to swim back up.

“You’d better actually get up and save me, then. Telekinetic shit ain’t romantic.” He spread his towel out beside Stretch and settled onto his front; he’d brought a few novels to read, some human science fiction that had only been published a few years ago. Getting books that weren’t decades old and crumbling or waterlogged was still a _novel_ experience.

..And of course only got two pages in before Toriel walked over, a bottle in her hand. “You two really should put on some sun screen, shouldn’t you?” Past her, he could see the kids getting the same treatment, Asgore helping them with the spots they couldn’t reach. He could have insisted that bones didn’t really need it, or that they’d be spending most of their time under the umbrella, but he wasn’t about to argue with a former queen, even if she wasn’t as intense as his Tori.

Plus it gave him a chance to have his hands all over Stretch, rubbing sunscreen up the column of his spine, really getting into the nooks and crannies. Best to be thorough after all, and he wasn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fondle Stretch’s pretty bones. From his boyfriend’s sighs and faint groans, it was clearly having an effect. Even though he had the protection of his shirt, Stretch still paid him back in turn, clever hands rubbing sunscreen into Sans’s highest, exposed vertebrae, and down his bare forearms and legs.

It was so distracting that he didn’t initially notice Blue and his brother, sitting in the sand a few yards away. Blue had another tube of sunscreen in his hands, and he was spreading it over Papyrus’s shoulders. Saying something low enough that Sans couldn’t hear.

Papyrus wasn’t nearly as shy about his scars as Sans was and went shirtless, though he was also wearing a weird, gauzy sort of wrap around his waist over his swim trunks. Going shirtless _and_ letting Blue rub lotion all over his shoulders and ribs without a complaint. He even seemed to enjoy it, staring out at the waves with a faint smile and shifting around to let Blue at various parts of his body, including bones he could have easily reached himself.

Sans knew they were friends. Hell, he encouraged it. Boss got lonely, he knew that, with Sans not around as much and Undyne as good as engaged. And Blue was a good kid, with surprisingly strong magic for coming from such a wussy universe. Sans could trust his brother with someone like Blue.

On the other hand... Blue was getting a bit _handsy_ , wasn’t he? And being allowed to do it. Boss was even tilting his head so Blue could spread lotion over his cervical vertebrae. Usually Boss hated people seeing his neck, let alone touching it, but here he was, scarf-less and letting Blue touch as he pleased. And he barely returned the favor. He seemed to offer, from what Sans could tell, reaching towards the tube, but Blue waved him off and applied most of the sunscreen himself, only requesting help for what little of his back was exposed. Blue was wearing a one-piece suit rather than swim trunks, so he didn’t need as much.

So _that_ was a bit weird. He had been a little suspicious of how close those two got sometimes (like drunk Blue climbing into Boss’s lap, and the hugging, and how often they spent time together), but hey, friendships could get like that. There had certainly been some drunken makeouts with Alphys in their early years, and it wasn’t like Sans had been in love with her. He was probably just being the overbearing brother.

Sunscreen thoroughly applied, he wiped off his hands and resumed reading, lulled by the waves and the sounds of Stretch dozing off beside him, snoring faintly. Boss was attempting to build a sand castle with the Captain and Blue, arguing about how many battlements it needed, while the kids ran around collecting shells and exploring the tide pools, exclaiming over crabs and snails. As the morning warmed up, people started braving the water, but Sans was in the middle of a chapter. No way was he going to join in until he was done.

And then they headed for the volleyball nets. Even he paused for a second to watch, keeping his place. Blue and Boss versus the Captain and Buff Alphys. (He had to wonder if that was a good team choice. Not a lot of depth perception between those two.) He was glad the net was several yards off, in case the ball flew off course. With how those guys played, getting hit would hurt like hell. The humans around the net flinched away at their battle cries and posturing, and no one had launched the ball yet.

It was even enough to make Stretch sit up, staring over in concern as the first round started. “Uh. They’re really going at it over there.”

“Yep.”

“Alphys just took a ball to the face. One of them is gonna get hurt. Or she or Undyne’s gonna lose that other eye.”

“Nah, they’re fine. If one of them gets hurt, that’s what all the food’s for. Look, it’s cute, right?” It was nice to see Boss getting competitive, a grin on his face as he spiked the ball and gained a point, shrieking in triumph.

When the match continued on without any maiming or dusting (though a few painful-looking hits), Stretch settled back down to his nap. As much as Red liked seeing his brother so happy and unrestrained, looking at those four was enough to make him tired. All that jumping and running? Better just to go back to his book.

He couldn’t help starting another chapter, and then another. Boss was too busy playing to scold him over wasting his beach time on books, and Stretch’s snoring was a nice backdrop. By the time he actually woke up and rolled over, asking how long he’d been out, Sans had been reading for a couple of hours.

Even he couldn’t argue with having a break. “Think it’s lunch time, dude. Tori’s unpacking everything.” He eased up to his feet, stiff from laying in the same position for so long. “C’mon, get up. Aren’t you hungry from all that heavy-duty sleeping?”

Stretch swiped at his ankles a bit. “Can’t you grab something for me?”

“Get your own sandwich, you lazyass.”

And they didn’t have just sandwiches. The Boss Monsters had lugged out three enormous coolers, and it was taking several hands to unpack it all, a small mountain of sandwich materials, drinks, tubs of fruit and potato salad.... Asgore had set up a little portable grill, ready to start making hot dogs and burgers. Sans doubted that it’d be as good as Grillby’s, but he got in line anyway, letting the kids get their hot dogs and grilled watermelon first.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Red?” Stretch had vouched for this guy since day 1, but it was still hard not to look up (and up and up...) and see the King. Even as mellowed out as his Royals had gotten since they reached the Surface, he preferred these guys.

“The sand’s a _beach_ , gets in between the bones. Kinda _salty_ about that, but otherwise, it’s great. Rare on my burg, fluffybuns.” He had the feeling Asgore had no idea that he had made a joke, but he laughed politely in response to Red’s widening grin.

Delicately, the spatula tiny in his hands like it belonged in a child’s toy kitchen set, Asgore plated Sans’s burger and held it out to him. “I hope it meets your standards. I am putting together some kebabs next, if you’re interested. You...could use some meat on your bones?”

The delivery was stilted, like he was parroting a joke Stretch had taught him, but Red snickered anyway. Nice to encourage puns whenever he got the chance. Maybe they could make a punner out of him yet. “Might just take you up on that, later.”

After he had prepared his burger from all the various condiments Tori had set up, he headed back to their towels. Stretch was already eating, apparently having gathered the energy to get his bony ass up and grab his own food: some sort of chicken wrap thing and a bunch of fruit. He nudged a soda can and a plastic bowl of grapes over to Sans, clattering a brief kiss against his cheekbone.

It was fucking idyllic, to be honest. He would have never expected things could be like this back when they were all still trapped in a dust-filled hole. An ocean and the sun and a boyfriend and all the good food he could have ever wanted, served by a former King.

And Papyrus was smiling. He and Blue were trudging over, plates filled with elaborate sandwiches (and even a few cookies hidden underneath, as if no one would notice), and _Papyrus looked so happy_. It didn’t really matter to him whether they were fucking or just friends, so long as they kept it up. Blue even asked Papyrus to go get them some drinks, and instead of getting pissy about it, this tiny skeleton giving him an _order_ , Papyrus just asked which one he wanted and got it for him. Just like that.

After lunch, he had started to consider the water more seriously, only for Toriel to put a stop to that: no swimming after eating, at least for a half hour. He’d never heard of that rule before, but she insisted on it, hands on her hips. As a skeletons who didn’t have a stomach, he could have probably waded out there without a problem, but the kids looked so dejected that it would have been shitty to lord it over them. Laying on his ribs in the sand, Sans started to construct the laziest sand castle that had probably ever come into existence. Frisk and Chara’s castle looked a lot better, but what the hell, he wasn’t a sand traditionalist. Nothing wrong with a good sand lump; it was far less likely to collapse in on itself, with nothing to collapse.

Frisk had set a timer on their phone, and the second that those thirty minutes had passed, they were running off into the waves with Chara on their heels, floaties clutched in their hands. Stretch rolled over from where he was sunning himself. “You wanna go take a dip too? Lemme know in case I have to go make a rescue.”

Eh, what the hell. It wasn’t every day that you got to see the ocean, after all. Sans signed his name on his latest sand lump and stood. “Yeah, why not? You coming, or are you just gonna watch me get all wet?”

“Maybe in a bit. Let me just commit the image of you in a clinging wet t-shirt to memory for a while. Really _soak_ it in...”

“Pervert,” Red shot back fondly, kicking a little sand at Stretch as he passed.

There were more swim toys than Chara and Frisk could ever need, so he didn’t feel bad going over and picking out a set of water wings, adjusting them as tight as they could go so that they fit around his narrow arms. Normally he would have felt like an idiot, wearing water wings decorated in little cartoon suns, but it was either that or sinking.

He paused as the tide lapped at his ankles, watching the kids splash around in the water. They hadn’t gone out that far, and there were plenty of people right there, in case something bad happened. Like...sharks? Jellyfish? The current pulling them away? He couldn’t drown, but he could worry about _them_ drowning. And there were plenty of other dangers. Human lifeguards dotted the beach, but he wasn’t fully convinced that they would risk themselves for a monster in need.

But Stretch was looking his way, keeping watch despite his insistence on being lazy. If any of them were in trouble, he wouldn’t need to lift a finger, able to save them with just a flick of magic. And the Captain was doing an easy backstroke in the deeper water, where she would be able to help them. Just a few years ago, the thought would be hilarious, but he could count on her saving at least the kids, if not him.

And if all else failed, Boss would definitely barrel into the water to help him. Hell, Boss would try to fight the whole damn ocean if he had to.

That was enough to get him to inch out into the cool water. Slowly at first, getting used to the temperature, how it felt against his bones. When it lapped at his waist, he carefully shifted to floating onto his back, the water wings keeping him up. With his skull halfway underwater, the shrieks and laughs of the other people in the water were pleasantly dulled.

If he had been more confident in water, he might have dozed off floating on his back, but it still felt risky, even with all of the people around him who could pull him out. Sans dipped his head down instead; there probably wouldn’t be any fish this close to shore, scared away by all the people, but he might as well look. The sensation of seawater pouring into his eye sockets was startling, but he’d take that over having to hold his breath. It’d be annoying to rinse his skull out later, but this was part of the beach experience. It did feel nice swirling through his head and between his ribs under his soaked shirt, as he watched the tiny waves from underneath.

When he raised his head up a few minutes later, twin streams of salt water pouring out of his sockets, he could see the Captain teaching Boss the motions of a breaststroke while Blue paddled beside them, calling out encouragement. He was doing okay, but even if he started struggling, those two would take care of him.The kids were passing a beach ball back and forth in the shallower water, and when he glanced toward the shore, Stretch had rolled over onto his front, watching for Red.

Everyone was safe, everyone was accounted for. It was safe to chill out and enjoy the water. He couldn’t get prune-y or sunburned like humans, so he didn’t mind staying in for a while, floating and sunning himself. It was a little more awkward to slump out of the ocean with his soaked clothing clinging to his bones, but Stretch was waiting with a towel, and he didn’t have to worry about dripping on his books.

They would have needed to bring twice as many coolers for dinner, so they headed over to one of the food trucks waiting along the pier, trailing sand as they ordered tacos and pizza. Luckily there were vegetarian options around; a lot of monsters, Red included, hadn’t fully gotten used to eating meat after living without it for so long in the Underground. If there was nothing else, he’d eat it, but it made him sick more often than not. Ending off the beach trip with vomiting didn’t sound like a great time.

Normally they wouldn’t have stayed at the beach for so long, but there was a fireworks display scheduled once the sun went down. That was probably the only reason he could think of to endure hours of sand in all his joints. He’d seen fireworks a few times, but that wasn’t the sort of experience where just once was enough. More humans had started showing up, and he kept an eye on the kids while he read. Lot of potentially rowdy, maybe drunk humans, though they were still giving the monsters a wide berth.

When things started getting really dark, the kids returned back to their parents and the fire pit near everyone's towels, lit with Toriel’s magic. The kids looked pretty drained, not that he could blame them: a whole day of running around, surrounded by unfamiliar humans, under a bright sun? He kind of wished he had a goat fussing over him too, and he had done a fraction of the physical activity that they had.

Now that things were getting colder, they took turns heading to the changing rooms, so that someone was watching over the towels but no one was alone and naked around humans. It was nice getting out of clinging, sand-covered clothing, even though they’d be going right back to it. There were even little showers, and he took a minute to rinse off some of the sand and sunscreen before drying off and shrugging into a clean shirt. They’d be right back to the sand in a minute, but for now it was a relief.

And then Stretch teleported in beside him, a towel still draped over his shoulders. He leaned down for a brief, silent kiss, and Red hoped no one would notice the second pair of legs underneath the dividers. There probably wouldn’t be any consequences if they were caught, other than brotherly lectures, but it was a nice sense of furtive excitement, like they were actually sneaking around to fuck. With Undyne changing in the next stall, he couldn’t do much other than winking at Stretch and ogling his bare bones as they got dressed, but it still made Stretch flush. He was probably wondering how Sans would have debauched him had they been alone.

It was hard not to doze off while they were waiting on the fireworks to begin, despite the loud humans. Too dark to read and nothing else to do. Stretch didn’t help matters, lying down beside him and practically spooning him. With that, he could block out shrieking humans and their pungent beer and the music playing down the beach. He felt safe like this.

Even better to wake up again with skeleton kisses dropping on his teeth and cheekbones. “It’s getting started,” Stretch murmured. Red squirmed up and into his lap, Stretch’s arms draping around him as the first firework launched off.

It was hard to look away, the sky above them lighting up in more colors than he had thought possible, but... Just once, he wanted to see his brother’s expression. These days, it felt like he was cataloging Boss’s joys.

So, in the lull when a bunch of tiny gold sprays were exploding above them, he peeked out past Stretch’s arm, over to the patch of sand where his brother was sitting. Sitting beside Blue, even. In the brief flashes of light, Red could see that they were holding hands, Blue’s thumb stroking over Boss’s fingers.

Wasn’t that an interesting thing, he thought, staring back up at the fireworks. Maybe he needed to keep an eye on those two, down the line. It wasn’t that he was going to drag out some embarrassing shovel talk—Boss could take care of himself. He wasn’t a babybones, he could handle his own business.

No, Red needed to stay alert for potential blackmail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this in summer when it was actually appropriate, so it's a little embarrassing to finish it now, but better late than never.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the following chapter are going to be a sort of offshoot that involves the swapfell skeletons (Razz and Slim) and how petplay works for them. I'm not really set on it being fully canon for the fic? Also, these are basically the same swapfells I wrote in Petals in Frost, to give you an idea about how their dynamic works.
> 
> Little bit of self-harm in this, as said in the updated tags.

There was an unfamiliar skeleton in Grillby’s.

The dinner crowd in the bar was repellent, its patrons starting to get a headstart on their drinking. It was a Friday as well, so the mood was rowdier than it usually would have been. Some of the dogs had taken their spots at the middle tables, and the barking and howling, although good-natured, was raucous enough to make him wince.

However, a person as talented and composed as Papyrus could handle such a crowd! Sans had been feeling under the weather for nearly a week, and now that he wasn’t quite so nauseated, he had requested his favorite food. Of course, burgers weren’t proper sickness food, but Papyrus had promised him and made up his mind to get some soup as well—less greasy, more likely to stay down if Sans’s vomiting resurfaced. And a milkshake for himself, as a reward for braving the wilds of the bar.

He had been so focused on making the order that he only noticed the skeleton after Grillby headed into the back, to make his order. Papyrus turned around, leaning against the bar, and he caught sight of the stranger, sitting alone in one of the side booths with their furred hood up, head bowed. He probably wouldn’t have realized they _were_ a skeleton, if not for the delicate boned hands clenched on the edge of the table.

And that was interesting. From his understanding of universal theory (as convoluted as it was), the spaces between universes were thin enough that worlds could slip through and meld together, like his own had years ago. However...

Usually there were obvious signs of newcomers arriving. It was hard to miss an entire Underground of people added to the city, even if they soon dispersed into neighboring cities or if the monster population of that universe was struggling to maintain its numbers, to put it delicately. How had he not noticed new monsters? As a part-time diplomatic assistant, it would be inappropriate for Papyrus not to introduce himself to this new arrival!

(That was a more socially acceptable way to scope this stranger out to make sure they wouldn’t harm his friends or brother. He wouldn’t allow their new lives to be derailed by the violence of a single monster.)

A soft crackle behind him signaled Grillby’s return, and he slid over a burger, a lidded cup of soup and a milkshake, all neatly bagged. With a cool nod, he tossed down some money, with a little extra to keep Sans’s tab at bay, and headed over to the booth and the stranger. Grillby put heat charms onto any to-go orders, so he didn’t need to bother worrying over the food going cold.

A round of drunken, inexpert singing began behind him, as he made his way closer. This skeleton was too tall to be a Sans, unless they had tumbled from some horrifying universe where Sanses were not small and easily carried, as fate intended them to be. So they were some sort of Papyrus, although that didn’t narrow it down much, considering how different he and Stretch were. It wouldn’t do to make assumptions before they had said a single word.

Someone flubbed a line in their song, and the rest of their group collapsed into booming laughter and barks. Papyrus had gotten close enough to see the new skeleton flinch, hands now diving underneath his coat sleeves to grip onto his forearms. They still hadn’t noticed his approach, starting to rock back and forth, ignoring the food in front of them: the dregs of a milkshake and half-eaten chicken fingers.

They definitely noticed, however, when he slid onto the opposite side of the booth. Now that he was close enough, he could hear their rattling underneath the din of the bar, and their eye sockets were empty. From the look on their face, he wondered if they would attack. It wasn’t so different from where he had been years ago, just emerging into the sun.

The stranger raised one wrist up to their mouth and bit down. Not hard enough to break through bone, but it left an indent, those fangs more like his than expected. A skeleton from a violent universe. A lesser monster would have backed off then, imagining those fangs going into them instead, but he refused to be intimidated. If he had deserved help at his worst, then this monster did as well. “If you wanted something to chew on, you could have finished this off first.” He waved at their abandoned meal.

Past the radius in their mouth, they growled at him. Someone dropped their glass with a horrible sound, accompanied by people shouting about broken glass, wasted beer. The skeleton bit down harder, and if this kept up, they were going to do serious damage. He needed to act.

Putting the food in his inventory so he had both hands free, he stood up abruptly. They weren’t done with their own food, but right now he had the feeling that leaving was more important. Once they realized that he was gesturing for them to stand, they actually did follow him.

For a few steps, it seemed as easy as that, though their steps were halting, like they could barely remember how to operate a pair of legs. But Papyrus hadn’t accounted for all the spilled beer; if it hadn’t been so busy, surely Grillby would have mopped it up, it was a slipping hazard—

—as demonstrated when his counterpart collapsed, feet sliding out from under them. It seemed worse that the crowd was watching now, a few monsters coming forward as if to help them up. Papyrus waved them away. It didn’t seem like adding more strangers would ease their distress. They were already struggling to raise themself up onto their knees, and if they accidentally put their hands down into shards of glass... He needed to act.

“My apologies for this,” he said, trying to sound confident and authoritative, as he swept them up into his arms and strode to the door. The murmuring behind him didn’t bode well for the gossip he was probably fueling, and no doubt it’d get back to Sans, but helping this person was more important than his otherwise flawless reputation.

It was making a scene, and they had started to flail reflexively, but he managed to reach the door and exit into the cool evening, still carrying them. He expected them to bite him, since they weren’t shy about using those teeth, but they didn’t try to attack, just using both hands to push against his ribcage.

There were sets of benches outside of Grillby’s, and he set them down on the closest one. There were cars passing by and a few people walking past, but it was far quieter outside than in the bar. It wasn’t a perfect solution, as they were still rattling and clutching themself, but they didn’t resume biting, and tiny lights had flickered back into their sockets. “Who’re you?” they mumbled.

He did a bit of a pose, tossing his scarf back. “You may refer to me as Edge. And yourself?” When they didn’t seem able or willing to answer, he changed tactics. “Is there someone you can call to come get you? You appear to have had some sort of panic attack.”

They mumbled something incoherent but fumbled in their coat pocket for a battered cellphone. Their fingers shook enough that he would have recommended a call rather than a text full of misspellings, but Papyrus didn’t think they could talk loud enough to do it.

Apparently it was successful, and they put their phone away. As he stood there, starting to feel a little awkward, they took a puzzle sphere out of their jacket and started to fiddle with it until their stiff posture loosened. How long could he really stand waiting on a stranger, when he had a sick brother to tend to? (Well, Sans had Stretch to fuss over him, but Edge wasn’t sure if that was better than being alone. All the love in the world wasn’t enough to make someone a proper nursemaid.)

However, he didn’t have to wait for long. Rushing as fast as their short legs could take them and pushing past other pedestrians (leaving a trail of shouts and cursing), another skeleton was approaching. Definitely a Sans, he decided, but a rougher Sans than he would have expected, more like his brother than the other Sanses he had met. They had the typical round features but some vicious scars on their skull, what looked like a claw mark across one socket. He could guess that there were more scars under that clothing.

“Ma—brother,” the taller skeleton called out, the loudest they had managed yet, opening their arms. He was pleased to see that they had recovered from their fall and could stand without much difficulty.

Papyrus waiting awkwardly as the brother started fussing at them after a tight hug. The Sans apparently could guess what had happened, and he wondered if this was a common occurrence. “You have headphones in your inventory! I know you always do, why do you keep forgetting about them...” In the middle of getting them to their feet, explaining that he was parked a few minutes away, the Sans looked at him, as if just noticing him. “Can I _help_ you?”

He kept his composure. “I was merely interested in getting to know another universe’s pair of skeletons, after I found and helped your brother. Your name?”

There was a haughty sniff at that. “I don’t suppose ‘Sans’ is enough for you. No? Is it going to be some asinine nickname?”

“Well, the rest of us have nicknames, I hardly think you’d be considered the original, as the fourth set to arrive.”

The Sans raised himself up to his maximum height, shoulders back, sneering at him. His pride was endearing. “I think _not_. While I do appreciate your attempts to help my brother, he and I are not interested in buddying up with cutesy nicknames and degrading our true identities. Good day.”

He took several strides away, before he realized his brother was still standing there, looking at Papyrus. “Papy? Something wrong?”

“Just a sec,” he murmured, standing up from the bench and looking at him. He handed his phone to Papyrus, gesturing a little.

“Erm, I’m not sure—oh. You want my number? Is that it?” He nodded slowly, and Papyrus entered his number in his limited contact list, under ‘Edge.’ Upon giving it back, he was given a shy fanged smile, before he headed after his brother. The Sans gave him a suspicious look over his shoulder, but the two of them left without incident, hand in hand.

It occurred to him, when he had been standing that close, that this skeleton had been wearing a collar, like the one hidden under his scarf. Right out in the open, where everyone could see. Clearly he was far braver than Edge had given him credit for.

-

This new Papyrus (“Slim”) was far more talkative in text messages than he had been verbally, sent over the next few weeks. After the incident at Grillby’s, whatever that had been, Papyrus hadn’t seen him in the bar since. Had it been a panic attack? Just nervousness being around monsters from other dimensions? He had resigned himself to text-only interactions when Edge ran into him again.

He looked a lot better than he had the last time, sitting in the booth. Grillby’s usual crowd was a little less rambunctious, even with Sans to spur them on, but he hoped Slim would leave if things became too much for him again. Or, more likely, that his brother would usher him out.

Razz, as they had collectively christened him a week ago (much to his annoyance), was sitting on the other side of the booth with a barely hidden look of discomfort. He had barely touched the beer or the sandwich in front of him, shoving it over to Slim as Papyrus approached. “If you’d rather get a box to take it home, that’s fine, but we shouldn’t waste—oh. It’s you.” He looked up at Papyrus, cocking his head, not nearly as hostile as he had been before. Had Slim told Razz about their communications?

“May I sit?” He gestured at the table, wondering which would be better: sitting beside Razz, who didn’t know him, or sitting beside Slim, which might make Razz overprotective. He went for the latter after Razz nodded, setting down his drink and making sure he wasn’t crowding Slim. If something went abruptly bad, he’d need to get up to let Slim escape outside.

That seemed unlikely, however. He was smiling and eating freely. And, now that his jacket was loose, not pulled around him as a means of protection, Papyrus could see his collar more easily. Slim wore a purple leather collar, fastened loosely around his neck. There were small, dulled metal spikes around the outside, seemingly more for effect than a defense boost. When he noticed Papyrus looking, though he had intended to be subtle about it, he grinned.

They weren’t close enough to trade intimacies, but he longed to know what his double’s reasons for collaring were. Was he completely off in his assumptions and it was merely a fashion statement? Was Slim actually a pet as well? He was so brazen in showing it off, letting anyone see. Who was his owner? Did Slim’s protective brother really accept that someone owned him? He couldn’t imagine telling Red about his proclivities, but they seemed too close as brothers for Slim to be keeping a covert master.

He wished he had the privacy to pull down his scarf and share his own collar. But instead, with Slim eating too much to talk, he traded agonizing small talk with Razz. He could only say so much about the weather before he was disgusted with his own tediousness, Razz didn’t betray any information about where either of them worked or lived (how long had they been on the Surface, to still have such paranoia?), and they hadn’t been involved in any of the monster events he brought up. It wasn’t surprising for them to be this reclusive if they had only recently emerged into this universe, but it didn’t give him much to work with.

At least the verbal torment eased when Slim finished his brother’s sandwich and joined the conversation. It was still quiet, picking his words carefully and making each one count, but he was participating. “We could meet the other skeletons,” Slim said. “Get to know our doubles.”

Razz sighed. “For strategic purposes only, not fooling around. I suppose I wouldn’t mind seeing if any of my counterparts are worthwhile.” Blue and Razz in the same room would be interesting, at the very least. Maybe they would hit it off and Razz would be a little less standoffish. If it had worked on Papyrus, wouldn’t it work on Razz? (He felt a pang of worry, wondering what would happen if it worked _too_ well, but there wasn’t any chance of Razz displacing him as Blue’s best friend. That was just ridiculous!)

He was sure his brother would get along with Slim. They had two different kinds of anxiety, from what he could tell, but maybe Sans could share some tips from his improvements on the surface or commiserate at the very least. And perhaps Stretch’s easygoing ways would be calming for him. Perhaps it was silly to rush these two into friendships, but universal counterparts had to stick together, and what sort of diplomat would ignore that duty?

And between Razz’s skittishness and Slim’s eager texts, he was getting the feeling they definitely needed some friends.

“I’m sure the rest would be interested to meet you.” He considered waving his own brother over, but he was fairly drunk, and that would not rate well as a first meeting. Sans would probably needle and poke at Razz until he snapped, and that would leave Slim upset too. “I’m sure you’ll be welcome at game night, for instance.”

“Well, perhaps we’ll deign to prove ourselves at this game night. Papy is especially excellent at games of skill, and you might be so thoroughly trounced you’d be ashamed to invite us back.”

“Oh, is that so?” Beside him, Slim ducked his head, flushed and grinning. He made a mental note to change him to a game of chess, or something equally cerebral; he could use a new opponent, one whose tactics he wasn’t used to.

That apparent opening was enough to open the floodgates of fraternal bragging, and Razz assured him, at length and with increasing excitement, of Slim’s skill with puzzles and games. It seemed to embarrass him, but with a resigned air, like he’d experienced the same sort of thing a thousand times. Conversation was flowing now that he had found the one subject Razz seemed to care about, and he looked more cheerful, starting to sip at his neglected beer. He didn’t go for a refill after it was empty, but Papyrus didn’t think such a wary monster would risk intoxication among strangers.

After only a few minutes, Slim tapped him on the shoulder. “Let me up?” He was out of fries, so Papyrus assumed he was getting up to order more, but instead he snagged Papyrus’s wrist, his hold loose, and led him over to the bathrooms. Razz didn’t seem surprised at this turn of events, turning towards his phone and doing nothing to stop it. He must have had his approval, to be alone with Slim without scrutiny or worry. They were barely through the door before Slim was tugging at his collar and pointing at Papyrus.

“You have one too? I saw it the other day but didn’t recognize it until a few minutes ago, when your scarf shifted a little.” That was the most he had said in a single string of words, his eyelights gleaming.

What?! Slim hadn’t bothered to check the stalls for potential eavesdroppers! He hurried over to lock the door after making sure there was no one there, hiding in a stall. Technically Slim hadn’t _said_ the word ‘collar’ but if anyone had been peeking through the gaps between the stalls...

Only when things were properly secured did he turn back to Slim. “Was it that obvious?” Had he been walking around with his scarf askew, the collar visible to everyone?

“If you’re looking for it, it is. You’re like me, right?”

“It depends on what you mean by ‘like you.’” He didn’t want to sound curt, but he wasn’t going to play his hand without knowing what Slim meant. He couldn’t possibly have guessed that Papyrus was a pet, just from that. It was too much of a leap, wasn’t it?

“You’re a dog too, aren’t you?” His face shone with excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet, and it wasn’t so difficult to imagine him as the puppy he claimed to be.

Oh. Oh, if Blue heard about this, he was going to have a field day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a note, it's not cool to move around people who are having panic attacks or sensory overload without their permission. 
> 
>    
> Mmm, I don't really know if this is good or not. It's taken so long to write it, and it's kind of basic. I'm not sure if I should make a tumblr update post for it or not. Maybe in the morning...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slim and Razz join the two of them for a playdate, but Razz has some unexpected anxieties.

For a while, Sans hadn’t noticed there was another universe in the mix. It was hard to keep track of them after a while, and harder still to explain to the humans why monster copies were popping up, especially multiple sets of royalty. But he occasionally caught glimpses of a different Chara, with Temmie sitting on their shoulder; a different Undyne, who he saw in a grocery store, cringing away from any human that got near her. Edge told him that there was a new pair of skeletons who he was befriending on his own, but they were proving elusive for Sans. If they were from a universe anything like Edge’s, it seemed better to let them approach him instead of rushing in.

He really, really wanted to rush in, but he waited, until one day there was an unfamiliar skeleton in Muffet’s, sitting next to Papyrus. A quiet Papyrus hiding his scarred face in the fluff of his jacket hood, looking like someone had smooshed together Red and Papy. He seemed nice, if timid, and Papy liked him, from the way he leaned in, no doubt whispering some awful wordplay that made Slim let out a scratchy laugh. That was a good enough endorsement for Sans!

The thing was...he was wearing a dog collar. Not under a scarf or the neckline of his shirt; it was completely out in the open for everyone to see. Maybe it was a fashion choice? Sans couldn’t imagine someone wearing a collar like...like Edge’s in public. Someone seemingly that shy wouldn’t do that, right? It was rude to speculate about this new skeleton before they had gotten to know each other, he tried to remind himself, as his brother waved him over.

“Have you met this guy, bro? Apparently their universe showed up a few months back. This is Slim.”

“Hi! I’m Sans, but you can call me Blue!” He held out a hand and internally cheered when Slim took it after a moment of clear hesitation.

And for a while, that was all: a few words here and there, chance meetings that became planned meetings. It was a slow-developing friendship, but Sans could be patient, and he had plenty of opportunities to build a deeper connection. Slim was a frequent feature in Muffet’s and Grillby’s, rarely saying much, sitting on the peripheral of things. Slim’s brother was far more elusive, but he would show up to retrieve his brother from the bar, usually saying very little. Sans made it his goal to get more conversation out of him, and the force of his friendliness soon inspired Razz into actual small talk! He didn’t growl and snarl at Sans anymore!

They had known each other for a few months before the whole thing came to light, a few months of brief encounters in the bar becoming invitations to movie night and brunch and Razz and Slim joining the skeleton groupchat. (The former with a lot more reluctance, but he joined nonetheless.)

It was Edge who eventually confirmed Sans’s faint suspicions, after he had gotten Razz and Slim’s consent to talk about it. (In fact, Slim seemed pleased for them to know, which was...surprising.) It turned out that Slim really was a pet too, a doggy instead of a cat like Edge. Razz’s position was less clear; was he Slim’s master? He couldn’t imagine doing kink stuff with his own brother, even without any sexual aspects to it, but they seemed cool with it. Or was he being an overprotective brother, and Slim didn’t actually have an owner?

That knowledge was out in the open for a while before any of them did anything about it. Naturally, when he and Edge had a movie and wine night in together, the conversation went to the brothers. Sans was all for trying a game with them, but not until he knew they were all on the same page. “How do you feel, about all this? I know you and Slim have been getting along well lately, so it seems like a good match.”

And personally, he wanted a chance to interact with him as a puppy. Would he be as withdrawn as he was normally, needing to get used to them, or was he hiding a precious, rambunctious side? Sans’s mind reeled with possibility.

Edge’s response was noncommittal, which was weird. He had been excited about it before, if embarrassed. “It could be interesting. It’s hard to know at this point, when it’s only a hypothetical.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Despite his placid tone, it was unmistakably an order, and Edge straightened up a bit, fingers going still on his glass. “If you don’t want to play with them, I’ll drop this whole thing completely—”

“It’s not exactly that.” Edge cringed at having interrupted him, and Sans put a steadying hand on his knee, nodding for him to continue. “I think playing with Slim could be pleasant, but Razz is another story. He’s still an unknown element. Clearly he’s Slim’s owner, as neither of them has mentioned a third party, but he seemed so _unenthusiastic._ Do you think he’s hiding his interest in petplay or completely uninterested?”

“Maybe he’s like you. It was like pulling teeth to get you to own up to it, at first, and we knew each other for years; I think we need to give him time. But that’s not all, is it?” He was half guessing, but Edge’s sharpened fingers were worrying against the side of his glass, and it felt like there was a worry he hadn’t excavated yet. “Please be honest with me.”

Edge sighed, draining his glass and refilling it before he spoke. “I don’t know how comfortable I am being a cat in front of him. Will he still respect me? I don’t want him to leave this encounter convinced I’m some sort of pathetic joke. I can tell Slim wouldn’t think that, but who can tell with Razz?”

“Nothing he’s said so far implies that he wouldn’t respect you, and I wouldn’t have invited him to this if I thought he would. He certainly respects Slim, puppy side and all. And,” Sans leaned over to grasp his hand, waiting for Edge to look him in the eye socket before he continued. Edge’s eyelights were fuzzy with wine and affection, and he squeezed his hand. “ _And_ if he says or does anything cruel or unkind to you, then I’ll throw him out out on his coccyx, no second chances. Burgeoning friendship aside, no one insults my kitty, especially when you’re showing him something so vulnerable.”

Edge gave a shaky laugh, setting his glass aside so he could hold Sans with both arms. Sans made a mental note to have him stay the night, with him that drunk. “One playdate, and I’ll see how I feel about it, then. With such a stalwart defender, I know nothing bad will happen. Perhaps I’ll even enjoy myself.”

-

They eventually met at Razz and Slim’s apartment; a conversation like this seemed like it would go better if they were on their own territory. There were rubber dog toys and gnawed bones neatly stacked in a box in the tiny living room, and from the stiff set of Razz’s jaw, he probably had agonized over whether to hide them away. He ushered Edge and Sans into the immaculate kitchen, Slim following behind. It took very little small talk to get to the point.

“We have rules, and you _will_ follow them if you want us to engage with you,” Razz said, slamming a tray down in front of them, with enough force that Sans thought it would crack the mismatched tea cups. Luckily he poured the tea after, or it would have slopped everywhere. Though it was steaming too much to properly drink, he took a cup, to be polite and have something to occupy his hands. Razz was the closest counterpart he had met so far—was Sans really this...overwhelming? Did he come off like this to other people?

He was lucky he hadn’t taken a sip, or he would have choked on it as Razz kept going, ransacking his kitchen cabinets. “You will _not_ fuck my brother.” He tore open a box of cookies and set it in front of them. “You will _not_ punish my brother. If he misbehaves in some way, I will handle it.” And then, a bag of licorice sticks; it was starting to resemble a haphazard tea party. “We have a safeword, which is ‘Toriel.’ I may use it on my brother’s behalf, if I feel he’s becoming stressed but can’t say it himself. Sometimes he has difficulty speaking. If he loses any significant amount of HP, we will not continue.” Slim was nodding along to all of it, which soothed Sans’s worries a little.

“Oh! That’s fine, that’s basically how we do it too. Our safeword is ‘stoplight.’”

It seemed like Razz had run out of things to offer them, and he paced around, hands flexing. What could Sans say to reassure him in all this? He was starting to feel bad about how stressed his alternate seemed. “I will not abide by muzzles in this encounter, but leashes are fine with us,” Razz said. “No other restraints and no dog crates.” Slim laughed softly at that, and Blue wondered if it meant that was an activity reserved for the two of them, instead of a hard limit.

“No need for muzzles—I’m not going to bite, promise,” Slim said, the first words he had said since they sat down. His greeting had been wordless hugs, and at the time, Sans had been so thrilled at moving forward to the physical contact part of their friendship that he hadn’t noticed his silence. Slim’s reassurance helped; based on the bite marks Sans sometimes saw when his jacket sleeves rode up, that would be lucky. He clearly had a lot of jaw strength.

“Well, I don’t think we’re going to be doing anything too intense,” Sans offered, trying to ignore how much he must have been blushing. “It’s usually pretty mild when it’s between us. No one really gets hurt, little scratches or bites at most.”

“What exactly were you expecting from this encounter, Raspberry?” Edge asked, and if he had eyebrows, they probably would have been raised. What sort of games did they play between each other? From how cautious Razz was acting, Sans couldn’t imagine he treated Slim the way he assumed they would.

“My master is overprotective,” Slim said softly. He was still smiling, and he pulled the licorice towards him. “It’s alright, Sans. You worry too much. We’re just going to be playing.”

“I will worry exactly how much I feel like worrying, so hush!” He sighed. “I don’t want to play-pretend violence with people I barely know, let alone committing any sort of real damage. We’re not going to do anything aggressive, and I want the same from you. No alternate forms either; this ends immediately if that occurs.”

“Alternate...forms?”

“Never mind!” Razz snapped, looking a little panicked. Slim snuck out a hand and pulled him into the empty seat beside him, and he leaned into his brother. “No violence and nothing aggressive, alright? From either side.”

“It can be tame,” Edge said, sipping at his tea. “The best case scenario of a cat and dog meeting, with some mild, friendly interaction. I have engaged with light biting and scratching in the past with Blue, but we can discard that, if you’d prefer.”

“That would be for the best,” Razz said. “And in return, my brother won’t roughhouse. _Right,_ Papyrus?”

“Of course I won’t,” he mumbled out, through his mouthful of licorice. “I’m better behaved than that. Almost hurting my feelings here, bro.”

“Really, it should be a lot of fun,” Sans said, hoping to put him at ease. “We’ve got a lot of cat toys to share, since we’ve been doing this for... a while. What do you guys like to do for aftercare? So we can prepare for that too.”

Razz stiffened, looking uncomfortable. “We can take care of that between ourselves, thank you. Your assistance isn’t necessary.”

“Oh! I mean, if you need to use our bathtub, or have a snack, let us know so that you won’t have to waste time asking for it.” Sans shifted uncertainly under Razz’s stare, until he finally looked away, his cheekbones going lavender.

“We just...talk? And cuddle, and nap,” Slim said, and Razz looked pinched at that, like admitting it was awful.

“Well, if you two need any privacy with that, you could use the guestroom. We’ll make sure this house is empty of everyone but us, so you don’t need to worry about intrusions.” That seemed to be the right thing to say, and Razz’s shoulders eased a little bit. It was odd to think of someone like him being shy, but that could have been the problem. With the big negotiations out of the way, talk went more smoothly: movies, TV, monster-human integration.

It took about a week of waiting and research after that, reading and sending articles to each other about integrating cats and dogs. He half-expected Razz to back out, but he and Slim both agreed to a time, the latter with a lot more exclamation points in his texts.

They decided to play together at Edge’s house, as the brothers’ apartment was a bit small. Edge drove them there, Razz and Slim in the backseat, while Sans rode shotgun, wondering if this was a mistake. Slim had been clearly excited when they left, but walking outside seemed to drain it, until he was quiet and fidgeting. Razz whispered to him through the whole drive, leaning close so Edge and Sans couldn’t hear. Whenever Sans glanced back, Razz glowered at him, and it was hard not to feel like an intruder.

He had to wonder if Razz wanted to be here at all. He seemed happy for Slim, but they had yet to see him show any excitement or anticipation for his own participation in the game. Just worry and fussing, scowling as he patted his brother. But then, he still didn’t know them that well and didn’t have the buffer of years of trust to fall back on. Or maybe it was different, doing a kink thing with your brother. (Did they treat it as a kink, or a quirky game? Maybe they were LARPing.) Edge made sure to park in the garage so they wouldn’t be seen by neighbors once they got out; Razz had been firm about their privacy.

Only when the garage door was shut, fully shielded from anyone else’s eyes, did he attach a leash to Slim’s ever-present collar and slip a dog-ears headband over the top of his skull. The band looked like it was made of the same soft material as the floppy ears, so it looked more comfortable than the stiff, plastic cat-ear headbands they had tried and discarded.

Slim perked right back up once they were inside, though Razz was clearly searching for any intruders, his hand clenched around the leash. They settled onto the couch while Edge went upstairs to change, though ‘settle’ wasn’t quite the right word. Razz sat ramrod straight, as if the couch cushions would get him dirty if he leaned against them, while Slim sat on the floor, leaning against his brother’s legs. Sans wasn’t too bothered by pets on the couch, skeletal or otherwise, but he didn’t want to step on their clearly established rules.

Slim brightened up immensely, flushed golden-orange as Edge came down the stairs, dropping to his hands and knees once he got to the first floor. If it wasn’t for Razz’s grip on the leash, he would have flung himself at Edge, whining and panting happily. He strained against it, and Edge pulled away, hiding against Sans’s legs.

“Heel,” Razz said, and though he sounded annoyed, he stroked Slim on the head as he settled back down, watching Edgy and.... smiling a little? Razz gave Slim some sort of treat, though Sans wasn’t close enough to see what it was.

It was a drawn-out scene of Edgy getting slowly closer, while Razz held Slim in place. Slim managed to calm down after a minute or two, and though he still clearly wanted to play, he stayed down on his stomach. He watched Edgy as he inched closer, before finally crouching down next to him and delicately sniffing at his skull. Edgy winced and mewed as Slim licked at his cheekbone, but he didn’t lash out. It was only natural for them to lick, to get each other’s scent.

Things went well from there, as they planned it would: no conflict, no hurting, no ‘dog accidentally terrifying a cat in its curiosity.’ Sans got out a few of Edgy’s toys, the ones that had little bells inside, and he tossed them for the two to chase around and bat between each other, though Razz still had a loose hold on the leash and wouldn’t let him move too far from the couch. It still felt a little unfair that Slim was being constricted while Edgy had his full range of movement, but it was mostly in line with the research they had done: let the cat move around freely, hold onto the dog to make sure it didn’t hurt the cat.

It didn’t last for very long, since it seemed silly to have hours of a game when they hadn’t figured out if they’d enjoy it or not. Slim didn’t seem to have a lot of energy, though he was enthusiastic. His movements towards the toys started to slow down, and he didn’t bound towards them the way Edgy did. Eventually he settled on his front, waiting for Edgy’s exciting batting to send the toy his way rather than reaching for it. He still looked like he was enjoying himself, which was the point.

The whole time, he kept an eye on Razz, ready to stop or pause things if he looked too uncomfortable. For the most part, he watched his brother with a shaky smile, occasionally kicking a toy over to the two of them. He didn’t reach out to pet Edge when he drifted closer to sniff at his legs, but that wasn't surprising.

The timer Sans had set for half an hour buzzed, more of a suggestion to stop than a demand. It jolted Slim out of his doze, and Edgy got in a few final swipes to his toy before his kitten time was over. Both of them looked happy and relaxed, and that was the main goal, so success!

It was really weird to see Edge come back to himself like this, shaking his head a few times sharply, as if to dislodge the mindset he had been in, and getting to his feet. Sans hoped that spending more time with them would make him less shy about other people seeing their aftercare, instead of this Tough Guy Immediately Back To Normal silliness. Sans made him sit back on the couch a moment later, since he looked a bit worn out, a quilt draped over him. He hurried to go get some water and the peanut butter squares he had made that morning, secretly hoping they might impress Razz. He clearly had a sweet tooth, so hopefully snacks would help him relax. And really, Razz was so standoffish that earning his approval would be a significant achievement.

Razz...didn’t look very relaxed. He had plucked the dog ears off his brother’s skull and tossed them aside, whispering to him. Slim had yet to say anything, and he was still on his hands and knees. Maybe he didn’t want to stop, or it took a while for him to come out that headspace? What Razz was saying was clearly frantic, and Sans didn’t want to intrude, taking his time while getting the snacks and a wet washcloth for Edge. (He had been okay with getting licked as a kitty, but now he was looking distinctly annoyed, though he restrained himself from rubbing it away with his sleeve.)

As he put down a plate on the coffee table for Slim, he lowered his face down to it, starting to eat...like a dog. Only for a few seconds, though, before his brother was pulling him back. Not by the leash, which he had already removed, nor his collar, but by his hood. “ _Papy!!_ Use your hands, that’s what they exist for!” Slim whined at him, and when he tried to dip his head again, Razz pulled him back, completely ignoring his own plate.

It felt weirdly personal, seeing Razz so distressed by Slim wanting a few more minutes to be a puppy. Awkwardly, Sans turned towards Edge, cuddling up against his side. “How are you feeling?” Those two clearly needed some personal time, and he needed to check in on his kitty anyway.

Edge glanced towards the brothers and spoke in a whisper. “That was...pleasant. He might be an acceptable playmate, on occasion, but his brother doesn’t seem alright. And they do come as a package deal.” It was easy to empathize with Razz on that; he couldn’t imagine Edge playing without him.

“Let’s see how they feel after a little while to recover? Maybe he gets dom drop really fast.” He managed to coax Slim up onto the couch with him, and they held each other. It seemed kinder to let them be, but after the ten minute mark, he really needed to get some proper food into Edge, and it would’ve been rude not to include them.

“Um... That was really fun, you two! Would you like to stay for dinner, or should we take you home?” He really wanted the former, but if they needed alone time to decompress, he didn’t want to stand in the way. He knew that, once they had left, he would definitely need alone time to talk things out with Edge.

It took a minute for Razz to lift his head, looking bleary and still upset. “Dinner would be...amenable. Papyrus, would you like to stay?” Razz looked over at his brother, who nodded after a long, unsure pause.

Edge insisted on cooking, and Sans had the feeling he was posturing, trying to seem impressive to them after such a vulnerable display. Sans volunteered himself to help, both to give them more alone time and keep an eye on Edge. He still seemed a little shaky, not fully recovered enough to be using knives without some supervision. Still, he managed his usual lasagna, and it smelled really good, enough that Razz gave an appreciative nod and Slim started visibly drooling.

It’d been a while, and Slim still seemed puppyish. It was wearing off slowly, and Razz had gotten him to sit upright at the table, but something was off. His hand was clumsy around the fork, and he looked like he wanted to dip his head down to the plate again. He spoke a little bit, at his brother’s nudging, but it was mostly inaudible.

...Conversation was kind of slow, as a result. They all seemed kind of awkward after what they had acted out. Edge stood to clear the table, but Blue shook his head. “How about I get the dishes, and you can sit down for a bit? You cooked, after all, it’s only fair!” It only took a second before Edge nodded, and headed for the couch. Razz waved his brother off to join Edge, before starting to gather plates.

“You don’t have to—”

“What sort of guest would I be, not to offer my assistance?!” Razz looked about ready to throw the plate in his face, so Sans backed up, letting him join him at the sink.

He sighed, removing his gloves and dipping his scarred hands into the water to scrub at the glass pan. When he spoke, it was the quietest Blue had ever heard out of him. “I’m not sure continuing this would be a good idea.”

“Razz, I know you were uncomfortable with it, it’s okay. If you like playing alone with him better, that might be for the best?” He considered telling Razz that he didn’t have to join in, and Slim could join them by himself, but Sans was sure that would go over terribly. It would be like Edge going to play without Sans at his side.

“It’s not...” He seemed to steel himself, scrubbing at a difficult stain. “For us, I don’t consider it to be a game. What we did an hour ago was fun and cute, yes, but oftentimes it wasn’t like that at all. My brother doesn’t act like a dog because he _wants_ to. When we were very young and moved to Snowdin, the inn and the store were run by dog monsters. I don’t know if it was like that in your universe, but we got to know them well. They could be as vicious as any other monster, but they liked ‘puppies,’ and they took us in.

“But...Slim—no, Papyrus. He was very young when we first fell in with the dogs. Impressionable. Growing up that way, he took on so much of their culture and behavior. He doesn’t play-act as a dog for fun, but because it’s a natural part of him. And usually, it’s not cute or fun or anything of the sort. He’s...gotten a lot of dust on him, acting as a guard dog. I worry that he could forget the situation and harm one of you.”

Sans couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder. He could see both of them sitting on the couch, talking calmly. Well, mostly Edge talking and Slim listening, from the looks of it. Of course it was silly; Edge had been a powerful Guardsman who had weathered his own share of violence. If Slim attacked, he could handle it! But Sans still had to check, had to make sure his best friend was safe.

“Well... Nothing bad actually happened. Everyone’s safe and okay. Wouldn’t it be better to give him more chances to be a dog without anything violent happening? If you let us, we could give you that space.” He considered adding that both he and Edge were more than competent with their magic and could defend themselves, but it could come across as threatening.

“My brother seemed so happy, playing with Edge... He has the rest of our family, still, so he isn’t completely alone, he has opportunities to be himself without fear of judgment, but Papyrus is insatiable when it comes to friendship, I suppose. ...It’s horrible, seeing an opportunity for him to make a friend and instinctively wanting to take it away from him.”

“Razz...” Regardless of the soap and dishwater, he reached out to touch his twin’s hand. “If you’re really uncomfortable playing with us, I understand. We’re not going to make you do things you don’t want to do. But... regardless of whether Slim does puppyplay with us, _he is our friend_. And so are you! There’s going to be plenty of other opportunities for friend activities of all kinds. Like game night, didn’t you both enjoy that?”

“It was.... worthwhile,” Razz mumbled, which seemed like a five-star compliment coming from him. “Papyrus enjoyed it, which is the important part.”

“Well, there can be more of that! And if you want to practice getting used to Slim being a friendly, nice dog around non-dog people, then you can do that with us.” He wasn’t sure how the other skeletons would respond to that sort of thing (Red would joke about it, but Sans knew he had respect for dog monsters; Papy might be rude about it, but not malicious), but at least they could build more confidence.

Razz bowed his head, looking down at the plate in his hands. His voice was soft but calmer now. “Next time, if there is a next time... We’ll bring some of Papyrus’s squeaky toys along. He loves those, and perhaps Edge will too?”

“Next time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of what I have planned for the swapfell interlude. Anything exploring their backstory is likely going to be in its own fic, but maybe these two will come back to play in the future. Petplay chapters just tend to happen without a lot of planning. 
> 
> This took a million months, ok, and I don't especially like it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Darling Dearest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10116239) by [Waffled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waffled/pseuds/Waffled)




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